


Manhunt

by Kitkats156



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:55:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28776435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitkats156/pseuds/Kitkats156
Summary: When George stumbles into a strange, mysterious injured man one night is he really about to risk his life for him straight off the bat?Better yet- is he able to trust him enough to join him and flee from his home... no guarantees of his own survival?It’s practically a manhunt... but who exactly are they running from?
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 18





	1. Manhunt

**Author's Note:**

> First work on here! Lemme know how you guys find it :) 
> 
> Still figuring out how to use it but I’ll figure it out 🤠 
> 
> Enjoy x

**Prologue.**

* * *

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” George snapped, as quietly as he could grind the words out between his teeth.

The answering smirk he gained in response made his nostrils flare, already opening his mouth to snarl out some other clever response- when an arrow suddenly whizzed through the air, piercing the stone wall right between the two.

George stared at it for a moment, before his widened gaze flickered up to meet the mirrored eyes of his growing accomplice.

“Do you trust me?” He whispered, glowing eyes practically dancing in the dark.

“I-“ George stuttered, blood running cold as he realised the shouts of their pursuers were growing too close- that they were gaining steady ground, and _fast_.

“...Yes.” George finally breathed, and that was all the confirmation that he needed.

“Then _run_.”

* * *

**Manhunt.**

George blinked, waking only to instantly squint against the harsh rays of sunlight peaking through his curtains.

He groaned, rolling over to bury his head back into his pillows. Maybe if he concentrated hard enough he could continue his dream just where it had left off-

" _George!"_

Fat chance of that happening now. He scowled at the annoyingly recognisable voice, designed especially to drag him out of his drowsy state. Maybe if he simply ignored it, it would just magically disappear-

" _George_ \- if you don't get up in the next ten seconds I'm coming in there! _I know you're awake, Dipshit!'_

He rolled his eyes tiredly at the empty threat. Leave it to Sapnap to already invite himself in.

"Alright, alright. I'm coming." He huffed in response, mostly to himself. He threw his legs over the side of his bed, before rising into a stretch.

He glanced towards the drawn curtains once more, wavering slightly, before he ultimately decided to just give in and walk over. He turned and took the three long strides he needed to make to open them up wide, intent on gazing out to see the beautiful morning behind them. 

He immediately winced however, when he was met with the harsh sun instead- raising a hand to instinctively shield his eyes. He moved to shy away from the window, regretting his decision already. He guessed that maybe it was around noon- but he wasn't exactly sure since he couldn't _see_ anything (save for bursts of vivid colours)anymore.

He turned on his heel, forgetting about what time of day it was for now, to instead throw on some fresh set of clothes. He wasn't the poorest man in the village, but he definitely wasn't royalty either. His scruffy, worn work pants and plain blue cotton shirt were enough for him. 

Just as he was about to step outside of his room, the door suddenly swung open for him- revealing a _very_ unhappy Sapnap.

George turned his head to the side to hide his smile, suddenly very focused on pulling on and lacing up his boots. "Good morning, Sapnap." He chirped with false cheer, turning to grin at his livid friend. "Did you make yourself at home?' 

"I. Have. Been. Knocking," He seethed over each word,"- _for twenty minutes straight!_ Why the hell do you sleep so much?!"

George shrugged, laughing in response to Sapnap's expression, and then stood up. "Well, I'm awake now, aren't I? Come on, lets go. We're going to be late." He chastised lightly, before sliding past his rigid friend. Sapnap’s features stayed twisted up into a scowl as he let George manoeuvre his way by him.

"I said let's _go,_ Sapnap! Jeez, hurry up! You're such a slow poke today." George repeated, dragging out the joke until he heard what sounded like Sapnap kicking the frame of his bedroom door with a heavy _thump_. He laughed loudly, speeding up his exit from the household as a result.

* * *

The sun _really_ decided to hate him today, it seemed.

George sweltered under the heat, fanning himself with the acquired straw hat he needed to do... whatever the hell this task was. 

Over the summer, there were always jobs that needed to be done in time before winter, _usually_ for the senior citizens of the village- who could no longer do it themselves. It just so happened that George and his small friend-group regularly offered to fill said spots for _said_ responsibilities. 

Today it was cutting up a whole bunch of wood. 

"Can we take a break?' He wheezed, dropping his axe to the floor before slumping beside it in a heap.

Sapnap ignored him, putting his pent up rage from this morning to good use. Bad however, _his other childhood friend_ , thankfully seemed to be more willing towards the idea. He nodded, before gracefully making his way down to sit in a cross-legged position on the ground. George rolled his eyes at the action.

"We've made good progress so far,' Bad noted, staring at the pile of chopped up logs beside them. "I think a few more hours should cut it.' He grinned at his joke, but George was too busy groaning before he could even fully finish his sentence. 

"A few more _hours?!_ You're joking." He groaned once more at Bad's genuine expression and then rolled onto his stomach. "This sucks." He mumbled, not needing to look up to know that Bad was nodding along with the statement. 

"George, what are you saying? You haven't _done_ anything." Sapnap remarked snidely, breaking his stoney silence to glare down at him. George huffed in response. 

"Oh yeah? I bet I've done more than you have.' He shot back childishly. He couldn't help it, it was _Sapnap_ he was speaking to after all.

"I'll strike you an even better bet," Sapnap countered, towering over him with the axe George would have preferred to be held in a less... _threatening_ way.

"Go on." George pushed, enjoying the fact he had gained this reaction from his friend.

"Let's see who can chop up the most wood in the amount of time we have left. Let's say we continue going until sundown, or until we run out of logs- whichever comes first, and then stop. Whoever has the least about of wood in their pile buys us all our rounds of drinks tonight." Sapnap smirked, the thought of winning the challenge practically making confidence ooze out of his pores.

George faltered for a split second. He doubted his endurance levels, and Sapnap was much more fitted to this task than he was. He just wanted the bragging rights, and of course George knew that already- but... He couldn't turn down a challenge like this one. 

"You're on." He grinned, rising and scrambling to pick up his axe up from the ground.

"I don't like this.' Bad stated, shaking his head hopelessly towards the pair.

"You ready?" Sapnap taunted, rolling his shoulders twice in preparation. 

George mimicked the action. "As I'll ever be.' He countered, eyeing some of the smaller looking logs to his left. 

"Then go, idiot!" He shouted, already swinging his axe down.

* * *

He lost. 

Maybe that was the obvious outcome, but George couldn't help but still feel the bitter sting of his loss as Sapnap whooped and hollered over his significantly bigger pile of logs compared to George's. 

Bad shot him something between a sympathetic and a " _I told you so,"_ look which George promptly decided to ignore.

"Let's go, boys." Sapnap grinned as he hooked his arms over both of their shoulders. "Drinks are on George!' He whooped once more and George shrugged out of his hold.

"Let's just go home and get somewhat clean first,' George responded, wrinkling his nose slightly. "You really do smell, Sapnap."

The insult seemed to fall right onto deaf ears, Sapnap going as far as to attempt at clicking his heels in mid-air. Of course, failing to do so. 

Bad chuckled lightly, but nodded in agreement, "I think we could all use a bath or two." He joked, meandering towards the path of his own home. "Let's just meet up outside of the pub in an hour or so!" He called over his shoulder, and then disappeared into the rapidly approaching darkness of the night.

"Just us, Georgey-poo.' Sapnap cooed, linking elbows with George. He grumbled at the action, but allowed Sapnap to have his moment of victory... before he had to suffer through a whole night's worth. He cringed.

"I'll see you in an hour, Nick.' He muttered, trying to sound bitter- but couldn't help but laugh at his own use of his friends real name. The nickname had just stuck for years, same for Bad, and it sounded foreign to say now. 

Sapnap laughed with him, before he turned to practically skip away towards his side of the village. "You better not even think about getting out of this, by the way!" He shouted, "I know where you live!"... and then he was gone, not bothering to wait and listen to George's potential reply.

He huffed into the now complete, dead silence.

With both of his friends gone- that left just George, with his longer journey back home... alone in the dark. 

_Yay,_ he thought bleakly, before instantly stepping up his pace.

* * *

George wandered through the village until he started to approach the more quieter parts of it- _his_ parts of it to be exact.

Not much went on around here, it was closest to the woods he supposed- his house actually faced directly towards them for that matter.

There were no young children to interrupt the peace and quiet, it was just the older generation town-folk. For example; middle-aged couples, some widows here and there, nothing special. It was definitely the outskirts of the village, his house resting right on the border. He supposed he preferred it that way.

George didn't know why Sapnap even bothered making his way all the way over just to annoy him each and every day-

_Ah._

That was the reason. Just to annoy him.

That was all it was. 

George was still smirking at the revelation, when a low rustling sound promptly snatched his attention.

He stilled, coming to a stop mere paces away from his front door. He slowly turned, and peered over his shoulder hesitantly towards the dark wood resting beyond his house. He scanned the area once, then twice- _thrice_ before coming to the conclusion it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

His vision could only range so far into the bushes, as well as the treeline in this dark, so he wouldn't be able to see anything strange if he tried.

George turned to face his door once more, hand reaching for the handle- when he heard a groan follow suit from the bushes.

His breathing stopped.

He turned once more, almost as if he were stuck in slow motion, to gaze towards the area again- this time even more apprehensive than before.

That definitely wasn't an animal. That was a noise only a human could make, if they were injured badly enough...

George tilted his head back, closing his eyes momentarily. 

His door was _right there_ , he could basically touch it now, and then he would be inside. _Safe._

The thing- _person_ groaned again, this time longer than it had before and George shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts from his head. 

_He should probably go help them._

George bit his lip unsurely, mustering up what little courage he had before hesitantly venturing his way out towards the dark wood.

"H-hello?" He provided into the dark, shuffling around some camouflaged bushes to head deeper into the thicket of tree's and shrubs. 

He stopped moving to listen once more, jumping as he heard another small groan sound directly from his left. 

"Oh my God!" He gasped in surprise, stumbling backwards. His foot caught on an uplifted root and he landed flat on his back. Now it was his turn to groan, chasing the pain and rubbing it away with his bruised hand.

George huffed slightly, turning onto all fours to shuffle around in the dark. He raised his hand out, feeling around for what could potentially be a hidden corpse.

"Can you..." George gulped. "Can you make another sound so I can find you?" He called out, sucking in a shuddered breath when he got an answering groan in response.

"Okay- okay, I-I'm coming." He voiced, trying to keep the petrified tremble out of his voice. 

He almost died inside as his hand brushed against some kind of material, pausing long enough to feel the ragged breathing of whoever George had just found. 

'I-It's okay." He reassured them- though he couldn't exactly lie by saying it wasn't partially for his own benefit too.

He patted upwards blindly in the dark, feeling quite a broad chest and wide shoulders in his search. His hands latched themselves onto said shoulders, hooking under them and- as he positioned himself into a low crouch, began to tug the victim back towards his home. 

_Totally not suspicious, not in the slightest way._

_This wasn't a dead body- he was still technically breathing_!

_No harm, no foul- right?_

George's thoughts betrayed his cool,calm exterior as he practically heaved the large man out from the dark shrubs, glancing around now and then before continuing his own vicious game of tug and war.

"This is so, _so_ bad." George muttered in disbelief, glancing around once more before shoving his way through his own back door. 

He was panting badly, wheezing as he dragged the man that might as well have weighed the same as a bag of bricks onto the middle of his kitchen floor. He staggered back, raising a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. He winced against the newfound pain in his strained back, casting an incredulous glance down at the man. _Why was he so damn heavy?_

He shook out his sore limbs as he quickly moved to light a candle. His fingers trembled as he struggled to maintain his composure- breaking two matches on accident before a bright flame finally illuminated the room in a circle of light.

He waved the candle around, peering over the man that, _to anyone else,_ could have been mistaken for just simply sleeping. George knew better than that, and he also knew that he needed to act quickly.

He scanned the length of the strangers body, trying to note any obvious wounds that needed tending. 

At first glance, he didn't notice anything, until he repositioned the candle held overhead. Now illuminated, blatantly clear to see- _as if it had been mocking him this whole time_ \- a crimson stain rested upon the man’s trembling right shoulder. 

George swallowed thickly at the sight of the vast amount of blood that had stained this stranger's clothes. It led from his right shoulder, across his chest and even started to trail down towards his bicep. George stared for a moment longer, stunned, before his legs started to move with their own accord, seemingly on auto-pilot. 

He shifted so that the candle now lit up the area of his body that needed the most attention, and then he was retrieving a blade from his kitchen knife rack. 

As he returned, the stranger's eyes simultaneously opened blearily, widening a fraction once they noticed the knife in his hand. He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, moving to sit up abruptly before another wave of pain brought him lying all the way back down once more. He groaned loudly and George stilled his movements.

"You really think I'm going to hurt you after I dragged you all the way back here?" George huffed softly, trying not to let the stranger's reaction phase him. "I need to cut your shirt, you're bleeding a lot. Is that okay?"

Gazing up at his face, George tried not to get too distracted.

He could see it perfectly clear now as the stranger stared right back at him, silent and calculating- as if he was weighing his options.   
George would have laughed if he wasn't so terribly frightened.

Two green eyes peered right back into his own, surrounded by long, thick and dark eyelashes. His features weren't odd; he had a normal straight nose and high, angled cheekbones, his jaw was clenched tight and George tried not to stare at it for too long. He obviously needed a moment to think, so George distracted himself by noting the colour of his hair, a sandy colour with darker roots. 

Finally, the stranger nodded just once- before dropping his head back to rest on the cool tiles. His eyes fell closed and he didn't move for a long time.

George's heart dropped, thinking he was too late- but after a rather long, tense moment of silence, the stranger's shallow breathing promptly made him slump forward in relief, hanging his head.

_Holy crap._


	2. Who Are You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George tries to figure out what to do with the stranger in his home, and also what to tell his friends about last nights events. 
> 
> As the stranger turns out to be much more mysterious than he previously seemed, George is not exactly sure how to handle it- or better yet, him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured it out! Haha, after some quick google searches I figured out what 'hits' were and also how to add chapters :p 
> 
> It's a learning curve, but I'm having fun!
> 
> Enjoy x

**Who Are You?**

* * *

George woke once again to the sound of persistent knocking- no, _banging_ on his door.

He groaned, moving a bit too quickly for the crick that had formed in his neck overnight. He winced, raising a hand to brace his neck as he managed to look up.

He blinked.

Another pair of green eyes stared directly back at him, the gaze itself cold and questioning. George frowned at his expression, before his gaze flickered down to the stranger's bare chest. He frowned once more in confusion, before the recent memories of last nights events slowly started to flood back into his mind.

 _That was right_ , he thought as his mind wandered back to nightmare that was the night beforehand;

_George sagged in relief as he watched the stranger's chest rise and fall steadily, before he moved to slice his shirt open in one swift movement. George peered down at the strangers chest, swallowing thickly just at the sight of the bloodied mess._

_It was mostly dried in, probably thanks to lying out in the cold night air for God knows how long- but there was also fresh blood merging into old. His hands trembled as he used the knife to shred some more pieces of the tattered shirt, before rising to dampen them in cold water._

_His hands stilled as he pressed them against the stranger's chest, waiting for him to stir against the chill of the dampened cloth, but he never did, and George instantly resumed his frantic movements._

_He cleaned the blood off as best he could, cursing himself for knowing nothing about medicine or doctor's surgery._

_Should_ he go call for a doctor?

_He chewed on his lip as the thought wandered into his head, rocking back onto his heels._

Would he make it in time?

_He glanced over his shoulder, towards his front door as he considered how fast he could run._

What if something happened while he left?

_The final thought made his movements falter, and he glanced down at the stranger's vulnerable expression with some growing guilt. He knew that he wouldn't have liked if Sapnap or Bad abandoned him if he were in this case. He wondered what the stranger might think if he woke up again and George was just... gone._

He would have to stay. _He_ _finally deduced, falling back onto his knee's by the stranger's side._

_He would dress the wound, and then he would wait. And watch. All night if he needed to._

_He chewed on his bottom lip once more, before he shook his head and committed to his plan._

_He cleaned the wound to the best of his ability, noting with immense relief that it was more situated towards his right shoulder than the middle of his chest, or more importantly- if it was near his heart or not._ _George wasn't that qualified to deal with major internal damage._

_He applied more fresh cloth to the wound, pressing down with even pressure before he quickly tied his makeshift wrap around the stranger's shoulder and into place._

_He inspected his work, nodding slightly to himself before he fell back onto his palms._

_All he needed to do now was wait. And watch._

And he had. All night, to be exact.

He guessed that he must have fallen asleep somewhere close to dawn, exhaustion getting the best of him. It didn't seem to matter much now; the stranger was sitting up on his own and was staring back at him perfectly fine.

As George continued to stare at his bandaged wrap he couldn't help but feel a small swell of pride bloom in the middle of his chest as only a few red splotches showed from where he sat. _Good enough._

"George?!"

_Crap._

_"Shit."_ He muttered, scrambling to his feet. He staggered, head spinning momentarily before he took a shaking step forward. A small grunt from behind him promptly stilled his footsteps, and he slowly turned to peer curiously down at the strange man sitting on his kitchen floor.

With a single, tanned hand the stranger held one finger to his full lips in a fluid motion.

George frowned.

 _Why?_ He wanted to ask- but Sapnap's voice beat him to it; "George! Are you even alive right now?! Answer me or I'm coming in there!"

It made his feet lurch forward once again, remembering the sudden urgency he had all but forgotten about not two seconds ago.

"I'm coming! Just, hold on!" He called out as he hurried towards his front door.

His hand wrapped around the door handle and he was swinging it open before he even had time to think of something inconspicuous to say.

"What's up?" George offered meekly, instantly wincing at the tremble in his voice.

He glanced at Sapnap's livid expression and cringed. Oh... so he was _mad_ mad.

"What's _up?"_ Sapnap echoed in disbelief. "That's really what you're saying to me right now? _What's up?"_

Feeling like a small child being scolded, George shifted uncomfortably on his feet- avoiding direct eye contact with his livid friend.

He smiled sheepishly at Sapnap, who just shook his head in return.

"What the hell happened last night, George? You really worried the crap out of us, man. If this was about the drinks, dude- I wasn't going to really make you pay for _all_ of them-"

George was shaking his head before Sapnap could even finish his sentence, raising a hand to silence him. "Hey- Sap, _Nick,_ it's okay. Don’t worry about it. Seriously, it wasn't about the drinks." He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head once more.

"It wasn't?" Sapnap repeated in surprise, before his brows furrowed in confusion. "Then... then what actually happened last night?"

He was staring hard at him again, and George felt his mouth bob open a few times before he finally found his voice.

"Well," He laughed loudly, hoping that it sounded natural, "-it wasn't like _that_ , Sapnap. Honestly, when i came home last night..." Images of the dark wood flickered in his mind. "I was so tired!" He pictured his hands covered in blood, trembling slightly. "That competition took a lot of me." He huffed out another breathless laugh, green eyes prominently lurking behind his own eyelids. He pictured himself dragging a body out from behind the woods in third person, and shuddered slightly.

"I didn't even realise I had dozed off before it was too late." He finished, biting the inside of his cheek.

He didn't like this. 

-But as Sapnap's stoney features slowly melted into a reassured smile, he couldn't help but feel relieved that his lies had actually worked out and saved his ass this time. 

_That was rare, especially with Sapnap, who was like living, breathing lie detector._

He smiled back, watching his friend nod as he gathered and processed the information.

"Gosh, dude! Say something next time if you feel like crashin'. Better yet, don't make stupid bets you know you can't win." Sapnap chuckled at George's expression, before he threw a thumb over his shoulder. "I've got to get going, delivering that wood over to the east side of the village today. Just wanted to make sure you were alive. I guess that's reassuring to hear, and I'm glad you're okay. I'll let Bad know so you don't need to worry about telling him. Enjoy your day off, cutie." He winked and then laughed once more, and George joined him nervously.

He nodded as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I'll... see you around, I guess?" He asked, and Sapnap hummed in agreement before he turned on his heel.

George watched as he made his way back down the path, chuckling slightly as he suddenly remembered something. 

"You really weren't going to make me pay?" He shouted after him, genuinely curious. 

"Oh no, I definitely was." Sapnap laughed, before he got too far away and had to cup his hands around his mouth to shout; "I just wanted to make you feel better!"

This time, George responded with a genuine laugh.

* * *

"Speak."

He towered over the man, once again standing in the middle of his own kitchen. It looked a bit of a mess, scrap pieces of cloth littered around the floor- as well as a faint outline of the stranger's body marked in his own dried blood.

George wrinkled his nose slightly at it, looking up to see that the man had followed his gaze to the floor as well.

"Well?" George prodded, dragging a chair out from his dining table to sit on backwards.

He rested his forearms on the back of the chair, trying his best to look intimidating as he stared the stranger down once more.

He huffed loudly when he gained no answer in response, and threw his head back. He closed his eyes momentarily, counting to ten mentally in his head to calm down. He took a deep breath, before glaring down at the man down once more.

"Tell me your name before I call someone over here to deal with you properly themselves." He warned, and then watched in satisfaction as his threat gained some sort of reaction from the man. His eyes had widened a fraction and his fists had clenched.

"I can't tell you that.' He gritted out, his voice sounding insanely rough. George winced, vaguely wondering if he was severely dehydrated or not.

"Why not?" He asked, before moving to fetch him a glass of water.

He handed the glass out to him, pulling it back slightly when the man didn't immediately reply.

"Does it matter?" He growled, glaring up at George. He blanched in response.

"Well I- erm... yes. What am I meant to call you if I don't have your name?" He countered, before shoving the glass roughly into the stranger's hand.

"Think of something, I bet you're clever enough." He muttered as he brought the glass to his lips.

George scowled back at him. He watched as the stranger desperately threw the drink back his throat, and frowned. 

"You could be more polite, you know." George grumbled. "I saved your life last night." He nodded towards the bandage tied around the man's shoulder, before his eyes flickered up to meet his gaze once again.

He shrugged loftily, as if he was opposing the comment. 

"Oh?" George demanded, "You think you would have survived out there all night, tough guy?"

The man's lip quirked upwards slightly and George scoffed. 

"In your dreams." George muttered, remembering the state he had found him in.

He had looked as good as dead out there. 

"What were you even doing out there anyway? What the hell happened?" George continued, his interest still piqued nonetheless. 

"It's a long story." Was his only reply.

George scowled again. 

"What? You're not going to give me any information? Not even a 'thank you', for dragging you out of the woods last night and helping you? You do realise that I was _this_ close to leaving you out there to fend by yourself." He indicated with his thumb and pointer finger a tiny sliver of space between the two.

Of course, he was lying.

He _had_ considered leaving him, but he also knew that his guilty conscience would have had him marching straight back out of his own door in a matter of minutes. 

This guy didn't need to know that, though.

"Thank you." He responded, a wry smile dancing at the corners of his lips. "-But I think I would have welcomed death just as fine." The smile dropped.

George remembered the reaction he had had to the sight of _him_ holding a knife last night and nearly laughed out loud. "I highly doubt that." He countered, holding the man's gaze long enough to prove his point.

He didn't seem phased though, shrugging again- except this time the action upset his injured shoulder. He hissed lowly, clenching his jaw twice before slowly relaxing once again.

George dropped his gaze, pretending to not have been following the movement.

"You said something about dreams earlier,' The man prompted, and George looked up to see him smirking slightly. "Maybe that's what you could call me."

"What, a dream?" George scoffed. "What sort of deranged guy are you?"

He only pursed his lips at George’s comment, before a slow grin spread across his features. George's stomach did a flip.

He didn't like that look. 

"I think I'll only be referred to as "Dream" from now on, if you don't mind." He stated, tilting his chin up slightly.

George shook his head in disbelief. "Yeah... Good-luck with that." He said slowly, eyeing the psychopath sitting in front of him warily.

He rose from his seat, snatching the glass back from... _ugh,_ he wasn't going to stoop that low. Yet he couldn’t help but test it out in his head; 

From _Dream?_

  
He instantly shook his head again.

_How embarrassing._

He placed the glass in the sink, gripping the wooden counter for a moment. He rolled his eyes, before turning his head slightly to sneak a quick glance at his guest.

He found him already staring right back at him, and instantly looked away again once he was caught.

"How long are you expecting to stay... _here?"_ George asked, indicating to his kitchen floor. He glanced down at his boots, frowning slightly when he didn't immediately get a reply after a few moments.

He looked up at the man expectantly, but he just acted as though George hadn't said anything. 

George opened his mouth to repeat the question once more- before his eyes widened in understanding.

_No._

The man was already chuckling as the realisation continued to dawn on George.

He wasn't going to _speak_ unless George addressed him with that stupid little nickname.

George swallowed thickly, glaring back at the deranged man still sitting and chuckling right in front of him.

"I'm not calling you that." George stated, shaking his head at the absurd idea of it. The man jutted a mocking lip out, pretending to be offended, before he was back to grinning like a maniac.

"I can just kick you out of my home, you know." George continued, nodding towards the back door connected to the kitchen. The same door he had used to drag the man inside in the first place. “-If you don’t start giving me the answers that I want.” 

The answering look he got in response seemed to say; " _I'd like to see you try."_

George could admit that the guy was significantly larger than him, in both height and muscle mass. He had almost thrown his back out trying to drag him inside last night while he was out of it, and he could take a solid guess that trying to get him back _outside_ while he was actually wide alert would be a more difficult task.

He _tsked_ quietly, blaming himself for the situation he suddenly found himself in.

"Fine!" He exclaimed eventually as he threw his hands into the air, "-I'll call you Dream, okay? Are you happy now, psycho? Does that make you feel better?" 

"Extremely." Dream replied, eyes creasing at the corners. The second dig hadn't even affected him.

George stared back at him incredulously.

 _Leave it to me to willingly drag a lunatic back into my house._ George thought bitterly, eyeing Dream through the corner of his eye.

_Typical._

* * *

"I'm George." He said after a long few, tense moments of silence.

"I know."

"You _know?_ " George echoed. "... How?"

"That guy earlier was shouting it repeatedly for quite a long time." _Dream_ responded dryly, as if it was the obvious answer.

_Maybe it was, actually._

George felt his cheeks flush as he realised it too. "Oh." He said simply, knowing that Dream was probably smirking at him without needing to look up. "Right. That was... my friend." He said carefully, not wanting to provide too much information if he wasn't going to get any in return.

He was right, of course. Dream only nodded silently, as if he were merely half-listening to what he had to say.

"Listen, I just need to know when you're going to leave." George suddenly blurted out, cheeks warming even more when Dream's head snapped up in surprise. "I-I mean, I have a life too, you know.." He trailed off, feeling awkward as Dream continued to hold his gaze.

And then, he melted into an almost friendly smile- the warmest one George had seen him give yet. 

"I'll be out of here before dark." Dream responded with a mirrored pleasant tone to co-exist with the smile. George frowned at the switch-up in behaviour. 

"Okay that's... well, that's great. I'll get you a new shirt, some supplies if you need them and then you'll be... on your way?" He tried not too sound hopeful.

Dream nodded, before slowing rising from the ground. His movements were ginger, testing out his sore limbs and muscles as he rose to stand to his full height.

George tried not to make his own movement obvious as he had to crane his neck up to look him in the eye.

"Then let's go."

* * *

First, George rifled through his clothing trunk for a big enough shirt to fit Dream.

They definitely weren't the same size, but maybe he could find a gift that was previously meant for him in the wrong size, and regift it to Dream in the right size.

He smiled to himself, sifting through his clothes even faster as a result.

He pulled out a long, soft hoodie- previously gifted to him by Sapnap, who had probably taken it out of his own trunk at back home. He remembered trying it on the day he got it on his 20th birthday.

He also remembered how it had flowed down to his mid-thighs.

Way too big, but maybe..

"Try this on." George said, tossing the hoodie to where Dream sat on his bed. 

George tried to ignore how he was just sitting there, _inspecting_ everything.

Dream complied without a word, tugging the olive green coloured hoodie over his head. He stood up, adjusting the hem by tucking it under itself. He stood still for a moment, feeling it out for himself before he turned to face George.

"What do you think?" He asked, splaying his hands out.

George nodded, ghosting his eyes over the perfect fit. "Suits you." He commented off-handedly, before rising into a stand.

"You can keep it, it's way too big for me anyway." He continued, watching Dream nod his thanks before he backtracked out of his room. "Let's get you those supplies so you can be on your merry way."

He didn't wait for Dream's answer as he left the house.

* * *

It was starting to get dark as they made their way back.

George was carrying a backpack full of imperishable food, a litre or twos worth of water bottles and some kind of survival kit he picked up in the store. Dream lugged a sleeping bag over his shoulder, as well as a tent set under his arm.

Perfectly prepared for the wild.

"The food should last you for a good week or so, just don't get too greedy. The water is different, you'll have to find clean streams on your way to regularly fill the bottles up. Take care of the sleeping bag and tent, roll them up properly. Don't get lazy, you'll ruin their purpose of trying to keep you alive otherwise." George took a deep breath once they reached his house, turning to give Dream a tight-lipped smile.

"That should be all, unless you'd like to share some good tearful goodbyes." He finished, already sliding the bag off of his arms.

"I-" Dream started, and then his ears pricked up. George frowned as Dream's frame went rigid, turning his head slightly towards the forest behind them.

"What?" George asked, but he was being hushed instantly. Dream dropped to a crouch, sticking close to the wall of the house.

George watched him in bewilderment.

Dream beckoned him to do the same in a rush, eyes pleading. George frowned, but pushed his legs forward to do the same as Dream anyway.

Silence.

"What?" George repeated in a whisper, scanning the thicket of tree's warily. "What is it?"

"I..." Dream gulped. "I thought I heard something." 

George's shoulders dropped. "Seriously?" He huffed incredulously, then rose to a stand.

Dream rose too after a few long moments of silence.

"How are you going to survive in the wild if you're this... _hyper aware_ all the damn time?" George wondered aloud, shaking his head slightly.

Dream was ignoring him, like a dog fixated on something outside the window, he wouldn’t look away from the forest. George rolled his eyes. 

"I'm just going to leave now." George stated loudly, and Dream shot him a pointed look- as though they were supposed to be remained hushed. George stared back at him with a deadpanned expression, and Dream finally shook his head in disbelief.

"You would have gotten us killed if that was actually who I thought it was-"

" _OVER THERE!_ "

George jumped at the sudden roar, neck swivelling so fast towards the tree's he was scared it would snap.

"What-" George breathed, but Dream's hand had already clamped down on his shoulder.

"Run- George, George! _Move now!_ " Dream shouted into his ear, shoving him forward. And then Dream was already moving, weaving his way back into the village as George gawked after him.

_What the hell._

George swallowed thickly once he heard thundering footsteps - _so many footsteps-_ emerge from the forest and, with a sudden burst of spiked adrenaline, picked the bag back up before launching himself into a desperate sprint.

He followed Dream's head, now covered with his hood up, as he thundered towards the village centre like a bull. George focused on his breathing, knowing that if they were going to continue at this pace, he was sure to be winded in no time at all. 

The fear still spiked more adrenaline into his blood, pumping it around his body until his veins practically sung. 

So much effort now, his lungs were wheezing in agony. 

His legs could barely keep up with his urgency to just _get away-_ was he about to fall? Or was he already falling? He really couldn't tell.

He didn't know if he was sobbing or panting either as he came to a sudden stop, bracing his hands on his knees to regain his breath.

There it was. The burnout.

He threw a glance over his shoulder, relieved when he didn't spot any immediate enemies barrelling towards him. He limped over to the side of a dark house, bracing against it like it was his only life support.

He didn't know where Dream was, he didn't exactly care too much either. He did feel guilty to have been carrying the bag full of much needed resources for him, though.

 _What the hell was that?_ The thought promptly interrupted his logical thinking and he gasped out loud like it caused him pain. 

Okay so, Dream had obviously been getting followed- or _hunted_ for that matter, but why?

George shook his head, casting another glance around him. This was bad. He should head back home... but what if there were people watching his home now? Because of _him._

George buried his head into his hands in frustration. This was so _so_ bad. 

A hand clamped over his mouth and he instantly screamed, thrashing in his attackers hold violently. He sent a fist flying, and panicked when his wrist was easily caught and pinned in place behind his back.

" _George."_ Dream whispered gruffly into his ear, and he relaxed momentarily, before he was thrashing with a newfound source of urgency than before. 

The situation he now found himself in was _because_ of Dream.

He spun out of Dream's hold, throwing the bag down at his feet. "Here you go! Take it! I don't want anything to do with it- or _you_ , for that matter!" He exclaimed loudly, and suddenly Dream was lurching forward to clamp his hand over George's mouth again. He yelped against his hand.

"Could you keep it down?" Dream whispered lowly, before he dragged them both backwards into the shadows provided by the house.

"-I don't think you have much of a choice here, George.” Dream continued hotly into his ear, and George gulped. “-They've already seen you with me and I.." Dream hesitated, and then dipped his head. He started shaking it slowly. 

George stared, wide eyed, as Dream looked back up to meet his gaze with a new pained expression painting his features. "I'm _so_ sorry, George. This wasn't supposed to happen." His voice was suddenly thick with emotion, and George frowned against his hand. 

Dream threw a desperate glance over his shoulder. "I can't guarantee your own safety if you don't come with me now..."

"I-what?!" George grabbed the hand from his mouth, and raised his voice as high as he could afford. "What do you mean 'come with me now'?? I'm not going with you, Dream. I'm sorry." He said, more out of habit than actual politeness.

Dream shook his head, grinding his teeth together impatiently. "I wasn't asking." He barely ground out, before his hand wrapped around George's arm tightly. "Just trust me, okay? I'm doing my best to keep you safe, but if we don't move _right now_ -"

"No." George cut him off, trying to yank his arm back, but Dream's hold on him was like a vice.

"Yes." He growled, pulling his arm harshly to drag him impossibly closer.

They were close enough to share breath now, and George gasped. He recovered quickly, glaring into Dream's eyes with all the hate he could muster.

" _No."_ He repeated, his tone final. "No, I'm not going with you, and no, I will not trust you. I want to go back home." He tried once again to shrug out of Dream's hold, and surprisingly he let his hand fall limp by his side. 

George instantly took a large step back.

"Fine." Dream smiled, but it was cold and detached. "I guess I'll just leave you here to die then?"

George nodded once, he had already made his decision.

"Okay." He shrugged. "It's not like once they see me suddenly fleeing alone they'll come right back around for you, right? Maybe torture is better than instant death." Dream nodded to himself, like he was considering it.

"And to think, they’ll try _anything_ to drag _every_ possible piece of information out of you...” He shook his head sadly. “Oh well, it was nice knowing you, George. You were a good guy to me." Dream said, putting on an extra show by feigning remorse- as if he was already mourning his death.

"I don't know what you're talking about." George snapped, as quietly as he could grind the words out between his teeth.

The answering smirk he gained in response made his nostrils flare. He wasn't going to tell him, not unless he joined him- right _now._

George opened his mouth to snarl out some other clever response to that- when an arrow suddenly whizzed through the air , piercing the stone wall right between the two. George stared at it for a moment, before his widened gaze flickered up to meet the mirrored eyes of his growing accomplice. 

"Do you trust me?" He whispered, glowing eyes practically dancing in the dark.

"I-" George stuttered, the word ' _no'_ desperately wanting to slip it's way past his teeth. His ears pricked, there was shouting- coming from somewhere a little too close for comfort. 

George felt his blood run cold as he realised the shouts were accompanied by thundering footsteps, that their pursuers were coming- that they were gaining steady ground, and _fast._

He turned and gazed at Dream helplessly, but the look he gained in return was unwaveringly certain.   
  
  


"...Yes." George finally breathed, and that was all the confirmation that Dream needed.

" Then _run._ "


	3. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George joins Dream on the run for his own survival, forgetting his life back home- and more importantly, his morals on whom to trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos, guys!
> 
> I have no idea how you've even found this story, but it's really nice to see :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy x

**Run.**

* * *

"Faster." Dream growled, moving more like a machine through the thicket of tree's than opposed to an ordinary man.

_Maybe he wasn't an ordinary man._

"Focus, George! You need to move _faster_." He repeated, taking his rear instead of leading the way.

George had no idea where he was going.

He barely ventured out into these woods, let alone in the dark- and he was also panicking very badly.   
  
Not a good combo.

"I'm _trying_." He wheezed, slapping a low-hanging branch out of his face. He winced, expecting it to hit Dream directly right behind him, but he heard no sound of an angered complaint.

He skidded to a stop in front of a steep, earthy wall- panting hard as he tried to desperately catch his breath.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

Dream was next to him in a heartbeat, taking a step back to throw both the sleeping bag and tent kit on top of the grassy overhang. "Climb." He ordered simply, and was already scaling the wall before George even had a moment to think. He tightened the straps on his backpack, unsure of where exactly to place his hands on the dark surface.

"We don't have a lot of time here, George, so I suggest you start climbing." Dream's voice was like a constant alarm bell going off, and George tried his best to drown it out as he began his steady climb upwards.

Dream was already at the top, scanning behind them with narrowed eyes. 

"C'mon.. c'mon." He muttered, and George shook his head. "Y-You need to shut up so I can concentrate!" He shouted, limbs locking into place as the sound of angry bellows reverberated through the dense forest, a little _too_ close to where they currently were held up.

_Shit._

He really needed to step up his pace. 

"George." Dream warned, but he was already nodding frantically. "I-I know, I-I just need... I need a second to _think_." George willed his locked limbs to move, but they screamed in protest.

He was terrified.

The forest was beginning to light up, not because of the sun- but because of... because of torches. A lot of torches. He could see the outline of his own shadow against the earthy wall now, staring back at him.

_This was how he was going to die._

" _George!_ " Dream was shouting, and he was shouting at himself too, but he just couldn't _move_.

 _Please._ George pleaded, praying to any lord above to spare him his life.

Suddenly his body was being lurched upward into the air, and he yelped loudly as his feet scrambled to regain the flat earth beneath them. Dream didn't wait for George to steady himself, before he was already pivoting and barrelling towards an open field to their left. George gasped once in surprise, and then he was chasing after him, focusing only on Dream as the sounds of their pursuers didn't cease to stop growing _closer_ and closer.

Would this go on all night?

_Focus._

Could George even last for that long if it did?

_Focus._

Would they lose them at some point? Or would they be dead before they even had a chance to?

_Damn it, George! Just focus!_

The grass was long and difficult to manoeuvre his way through, and George found himself raising his knee's in a sort of bobbing action to try and dash through the landscape. It took a lot out of him, he could already feel himself slowing down- whereas Dream seemed to be speeding up. How did he even do that?

His chest seized in effort, his lungs felt as though they were practically bursting into flames. His throat constricted tightly, and it felt like sandpaper.

He couldn't stop, not now. He needed to keep moving.

"Dream." He wheezed painfully, squinting into the darkness of the night. 

He couldn't see him anymore. 

**Panic.**

It felt like a razor-sharp knife rupturing and twisting at his insides. 

_Where was Dream?_

He was right there a second ago! George had been watching him, _focusing_ only on him! How could he have just disappeared into thin air like that? 

He scanned the field rapidly, willing himself to spot a fleeting figure somewhere in the distance... _Anywhere._

Would he just keep moving straight? 

He chewed on his bottom lip, casting an alarmed glance over his shoulder. The flames cast from blazing torches were creeping closer towards the end of the field, painting the dark sky in brilliant beams of light. They were scaling that hill ten times faster than George had with impossible ease. They were experienced, he realised with an increase of dread filling up his stomach. And they were still coming- he needed to get away, and _fast._

If he didn't move now he was dead.

Had Dream suddenly lurched to the left when George wasn't paying attention? He was having difficultly breathing now, spotting so many figures stand out against the horizon. From the left, there seemed to be horses with riders on their backs joining the crowd as well. George blanched incredulously. 

It didn't make any sense-

He yelped as he felt something snake around his ankle, tightening a fraction before he was abruptly dragged down to the ground. Suddenly he was on the floor, with the wind knocked out of him and a familiar hand clamped around his mouth to keep him quiet.

_Dream._

The relief was like a bucket of ice water thrown over his head. His body sagged, slumping to lay beside Dream willingly as he let his terror subsequently pass.

He could barely make him out to see in the dark, but if he squinted hard enough he could just about tell where Dream's outline against the tall grass was. His hood was still pulled up, and his body was so still George couldn't exactly tell if he was breathing or not. He followed the hand that was being pressed against his mouth up, and met Dream's gaze automatically. 

As if the hand wasn't enough, Dream raised a single finger to his lips- and the message was once again, perfectly clear.

_Don't make a sound._

George gazed back at him with wide eyes, nodding once as he tried his best to control the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Dream's gaze flickered down and followed the staggered movement, lost in deep concentration. 

He still hadn't taken his hand away from George's mouth... maybe he just didn't exactly trust him enough to stay completely silent, George tried not to think about it.

Instead he listened, and waited.

First, the only thing he could hear was the sound of his own roaring heartbeat thundering in his ears- but then their pursuers eventually made their first, official appearance. 

The sound of galloping hooves stampeding through the field made George's stomach do a couple of flips, the feeling of sickness returning along with it. He closed his eyes, feeling his eyelashes graze against Dream's fingers as he inhaled sharply.

_"This way!"_

He winced.

"I think they went over here!" 

He held his breath.

The space was suddenly illuminated in the dim light from their torches, not close enough to reveal their current position, but enough to where George could slightly make out Dream's face and gauge his reaction. George scanned it thoroughly with growing unsettledness. 

Dream's brow was set, and his jaw was ticking. He seemed to be glaring at the ground, but George guessed that he was actually straining his ears to eavesdrop in on their conversation. He struggled to do the same, caught between watching Dream's expression or listening intently. His decision was made for him when one of the men broke his train of thought by suddenly speaking up;

"Almost had him. That smaller fella." The gruff voice huffed. "So close I could have reached out and touched him."

George's breathing failed. He hadn't realised it had been _that_ close.

"Complain about it later- they're still around here somewhere. I can feel it." A deeper voice muttered. "We ride until dawn- if we haven't already found them by then, set up camp and then continue right on their tracks. They can't get far on foot."

A chorus of agreement sounded in the group. George took a blind guess by assuming there were only 8 of them present. 

_Assuming._

George held his breath as the group began to move again, thankfully steering away from where they lay hidden. They had surprisingly travelled with horses, but some were riding with two people on one saddle. 

George guessed that they were the ones that partook in the actual on-foot race, like the guy that had almost caught him... he shivered, trying not to think about it for too long. 

The light began to fade away from the clearing, leaving the pair hidden in surrounded darkness once again.

George let loose a shuddered breath when he knew they were safe, and Dream let his hand drop from his mouth.

"Oh my... God." George breathed, voice clearly trembling. "Oh my _God_.' He repeated, and Dream let him- watching silently as he spiralled.

"That was too close." He mumbled, planting a hand over his chest as if it would stop his heart from galloping so fast. Dream nodded, scrunching his nose lightly as he glared after where the group had left the clearing.

"There's no time for critical thinking in these situations, George." He commented, probably recalling the reason for his current distress _._ "You just need to move and you need to trust me from here on out, no hesitations. You got that?" Dream was blatantly ordering him, but George didn't exactly care in that moment.

He wanted to get out of this alive.

He _needed_ to get out of this alive.

For his friends.

"Yes." He breathed, and Dream nodded- relaxing a little.

"Good, now let's move. We need to get as much of a head start as we possibly can." Dream was already on his feet, offering a hand down to George.

He took it, rising into a wobble, before he regained his balance. And his courage. 

_He would survive this._

Dream took one last glance at where the group had departed, and then turned on his heel and headed in the opposite direction. George couldn't do anything else but follow behind him obediently.

_For God knows how long._

* * *

Hours.

They had been travelling for hours.

George thought that cutting wood during the peak hours of a summers day was bad- but this was worse. _Way_ worse.

They had travelled through the night, right passed dawn- and now the midday sun showed them no forgiveness.

The sweltering summer heat bared down on their vulnerable skin relentlessly, t-shirt and hoodie cast aside hours ago.They had tied them around their waists, but George debated wrapping his t-shirt around his head in a little protective cocoon. 

He didn't handle heat very well.

They had been walking for so long that George couldn't exactly believe it when he found himself longing for the familiar feel of his axe in his hand instead of _this._

Their skin was sticky with equal layers of sheen sweat, and he could already feel the sunburn prickling at the base of his neck. He was also incredibly exhausted. 

Dream took little to no breaks in between the hours of the night, stopping only to take a swig of water before continuing his march onwards towards the west. George could barely keep up with him and his set pace. His knee's trembled with each step he took and he was severely sleep deprived.

He had already tried to pry of course; by asking where they were going countless of times- but Dream never answered.

Either he didn't know, or he was just keeping that information to himself- George couldn't tell.

He glared at Dream's back every chance he had, though. Cursing him for being the sole reason George was in this mess. Of course, he just needed something to blame. He was grouchy and hungry.

The positive side to things was the fact that the weight on his back didn't bother him as much as it once had before, he was sort of numb to it now he guessed. Dream had tied the sleeping bag to his waist, before deciding to stop and drag the tent's protective cover out of the box to do the same. He looked sort of silly, like a llama of some kind with each bag on either side of his hips. George could picture it clearly, a llama version of Dream.

He snickered quietly and Dream threw a curious glance behind him.

"What?" He asked, trying to peer over his good shoulder. "Is there something on me?"

George shook his head, then assumed Dream hadn't actually seen the movement, and hurried to continue with; "No, nothing. I was just thinking of something else."

"Well..." Dream started, smoothly spotting and stepping over a fallen log. "-what is it?" 

George stumbled over the same log and cursed under his breath. "Nothing." He muttered, even though he was still imagining it. He grinned. 

"Okay." Dream glanced at him again, and then they were left in the familiar silence from before.

"Hey, where are we actually go-"

"Shut up." Dream growled, purposefully letting the branch he was holding swing back into George's face without so much as a slight warning.

* * *

Sporting a recently developed black eye, George groaned as his stomach rumbled yet again.

"Could we stop to eat something? I'm starving.' He whined, dragging his feet.

If they continued any further, he was sure he was going to pass out on the ground.

Thankfully, Dream complied with the idea, nodding absently to George's request.

"We can camp here for just a bit, but we really need to keep moving." Dream looked towards the east. "They've got to have found our trail by now."

George felt his stomach physically drop.

_What?_

...

How?

They had been weaving through fields and forests all morning, switching up their approach each time they came to a new terrain, and also never staying in one spot for too long. They couldn't possibly have picked up their trail already, right? 

George took one nervous glance behind him, as if they were already being watched.

He jumped when Dream clamped a hand down over his shoulder, whirling around to meet his strong gaze.

"It's going to be okay, George. We have the advantage right now- we're ahead. Let's just... keep it that way, okay?" He attempted at a cheerful smile, but then noted George's solemn expression, and it quickly dropped into a grim, flat line once again. "Let's just eat." He muttered, before releasing his hold on him.

George finally nodded, slinging the bag from his shoulder. He threw a can of what he assumed to be beans of some kind to Dream, and then found another one for himself. He did a quick head count, noting that there were at least 12 cans left. 6 each, if they were going to share evenly. 

"Um..." George started, feeling his stomach turn as the realisation dawned on him. "I don't think there's enough cans here for the two of us to last... a long time." He said slowly, stealing a quick glance at Dream.

He barely nodded, already tearing the lid open from the can to quickly swig the contents back into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment, swallowed, and then stared down at the can in his hand.

"I guess this is enough to last us a full day, right?" Dream weighed the can in his hand momentarily. "-One can per day, _each-_ that's almost a whole week's supply. We'll stumble on village before then." He nodded, before tipping the can back to take another mouthful. He tore a piece off of the strap from his sleeping bag, tied it around the can twice, before adding it to his assortment of materials dangling from his waist.

He had the audacity to look somewhat proud of it, too.

George squawked before he could even attempt to stop himself, staring at the 250ml can incredulously. "A whole _day's_ worth?!" He exclaimed, before shaking his head in protest. "That's insanity, _this_ -" He shook the can, '-is _not_ going to last us a full day.'

Dream stared back at him in confusion. "Well..." He frowned, "-why not?"

"You're joking." George huffed out a laugh, before it promptly died in his chest as he noted Dream's stoic expression. "You're not joking?"

He shook his head.

George groaned in frustration, squeezing the can tight enough in his hand so that he wouldn't end up sending it launching towards the ground.

Instead, he did the next best thing...by kicking the nearest rock to him to send it hurtling straight for an unsuspecting bush. He swore he saw a hint of a smile ghost Dreams lips in his peripheral vision, but when he turned to direct his glare on him- it was already gone.

He crouched down low, then slowly tipped backwards on his heels until the earth met him halfway, and he was then sitting on the uneven surface. 

Begrudgingly, he began to open his can of beans.

_  
Yummy._

* * *

They were on their feet again in less than 10 minutes.

Dream had decided to ignore George's bratty attitude, or maybe he was just acting normal- George couldn't really tell when it came to his fellow fugitive.

Of course, he was still left in the dark when it came down to _why_ exactly he was one- Dream didn't tell him why they were both being tracked like wanted criminals. The thought made him feel uneasy, glancing at Dream every so often with newfound apprehension.

Should he really be trusting him?

 _What if the people hunting him were the_ good _guys?  
_

George huffed at the thought. Would the " _good guys_ " really want to grab him like that one guy did? He rolled his eyes, but then eventually frowned nonetheless.

He couldn't help but wonder even the _slightest_ possibility...

George swallowed thickly, scanning his surroundings nervously. Had he really willingly let a complete and _total_ stranger take him away from his home? _His friends??_

George almost audibly groaned- why must he be so stupid?

The thought of his friends back at home made him wince. He was almost half a day's journey away from them now, based on what grounds? Because _Dream_ said he was in danger? How could he trust a man he found tattered in the woods one night? George scoffed quietly. 

_He couldn't._

His eyes widened at the thought. He really couldn't, could he? The logic was too warped, and he was failing to think of specific reasons as to how it could make sense- because it didn't. He had no reason why to trust this man.

_Oh God._

He would need to get himself alone, away from Dream, and then he would run. As fast as he could- he would just bolt and never look back.

He owed Dream nothing.

If anything Dream owed _him_ for saving his life two nights ago.

 _Last night meant nothing,_ George convinced himself, _He just needed to save his own ass by saving mine, too._

"Hey, uh... D-Dream?" George finally piped up, gathering up all of his courage for what needed to be done. 

_He needed to lie. And he needed to lie_ well.

A difficult task for someone like George.

He stopped in the middle of his tracks, already swinging the bag from his shoulders.

"Yeah?" Dream responded, coming to the same, sudden halt when he noticed George was no longer moving. "What's up?" 

"I, uh.. I need to go." George announced, flushing slightly at the statement.

"Go?" Dream echoed with a dumbfounded expression. His gaze darted around, before returning to rest on George's figure once again. "Go... _where?_ "

George nodded towards the bushes.

"Oh." Dream raised his brows. "Um, sure. Okay." He took the bag from George silently. "Just... don't take too long, okay? And don't wander off."

George pursed his lips, nodding absently as he tried his best to avoid Dream's questioning gaze.

This wasn't going to be easy. Like a bandaid, he would just need to _whoosh-_ and just do it. He wasn't exactly sure how, but he was about to find out.

_Focus._

This was the only chance he was going to get. He needed to be smart about this, if he wanted to see his friends again. 

_Focus._

He took a deep breath, before pushing his way into the jungle of low hanging branches and brambles. 

He kept trudging forward until it wasn't as much of a struggle to move around anymore, and then stopped. 

He scanned around, noting his surroundings with a newfound hyper-awareness.He was in a small clearing, probably around the size of his bedroom space back at home. He darted around, searching for any clear sign of an exit route, maybe even a pathway if he was lucky, but of course, this was reality and fate just didn't favour him all too well.

 _(Probably due to the amount of bets he had wagered against Sapnap, of course,)_ but somehow this just didn't seem fair.

Warped, slouching tree's and overgrown bushes practically laughed back into his face, caging him in like he was some sort of wild animal. The roots to each plant were deep and ancient. He prodded at them with his foot- careful not to make too much noise that could alert Dream. He would need to find a break in the root system, somewhere that they weren't as thick nor as heavy.

He gulped nervously. _He wasn't prepared for this._

Dread was beginning the gather at the base of his stomach, forming into a tight ball as he paced the perimeter of the small clearing. He wondered when it would soon turn into desperation.

"You almost done?" Dream called, voice slightly muffled due to the practical wall of greenery dividing them apart.

George didn't answer, his mouth going dry. 

He glanced over his shoulder, wondering if Dream could still see him- and then he was suddenly on his knee's, frantically clawing at the earth as though he would tunnel his way out with just his bare hands.

He tugged on the plant roots, gasping in surprise when they pulled away like nothing after all. 

Of course, he noted the rotten foliage surrounding them and thanked it with all pf his being, before he was scrambling to resume his ploughing at the earth's surface once again.The ground began to fall away in large clumps of gritty mud, it caked underneath his fingernails with the rate at which he was digging, but George barely noticed it. His hands were a blur, moving on autopilot as the adrenaline finally kicked in and completely took over his nervous system.

 _Dig, dig, dig!_ The chant roared in his head like he was listening to a thousand men instead of his minds voice. _Dig!_

Relief, refreshing and completely overwhelming engulfed him as soon as a wide enough space began to form, leading out directly to the other side of the bush. 

He was panting, clawing and simultaneously forcing himself into the tiny gap at the same time.

He needed to make his way through to the other side, he _had_ to- it would practically be home-stretch from there. He could make it. He knew he could. 

One last, powerful kick from his legs would send him-

" _George!'_

_Oh shit._

His movements faltered as his stomach dropped, and then he was wriggling and pushing with a newfound sense of purpose. His head and shoulders were practically all the way through, he just needed to find the right leverage beneath his feet to push off-

Hands. 

They gripped at his ankles so tight George gasped in pain.

He was already being dragged back, and he shouted- thrashing in a vicious protest. His face was being slashed from barbs and nettles as he went, skin tearing as he flailed and jerked wildly to escape them.

George was back inside of the clearing before he could even echo another shout.

_He blew it._

Dream was seething, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he towered over George.

He smiled sheepishly. 

* * *

"Do you have any idea how much of a stupid idea that was? That little performance you just pulled back there?" Dream demanded as he practically dragged George out from the bushes by his shirt. He used it to march him back onto the path they had been initially following.

George screwed his mouth shut, trying not to let the words add to the bitter sting that had already set deep in his chest. 

He had been so close. _So_ close.

And he blew it.

"Do you?!" Dream bellowed, tightening the fist wrapped into the material of his t-shirt.

George glared at him in response.

Dream laughed sharply, before roughly shoving him forward with a hard knock to the shoulder. "I thought as much. We have to make up for precious time now, thanks to _you._ So I suggest you start moving. And-" He grabbed George's torn elbow, forcefully whirling him around to face Dream once more, "-if you even _think_ about trying to pull another stunt like that again, I'd advise you not to. You don't want to even push me as far to my bad side. You got that?" 

George clenched his teeth at the condescending tone he was using with him, feeling a low bubble of anger begin boil in his stomach.

Dream tightened his grip, and George finally nodded his head once.

"Good," Dream smiled, "I'm glad we've come to some sort of an agreement.'

George narrowed his eyes.

 _That's what you'd like to think._ George wanted to hiss, but he bit his tongue. 

Let Dream believe what he wanted to for now, George mused- because deep down he knew that this would only be the first of many escape attempts he would make, if it meant that he would return home sooner rather than later. 

And it most certainly _would_ be sooner.

There was no doubt about that much.


	4. Natural Selection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After George's failed attempt at escape, Dream is colder than ever- for which George is grateful for. It just makes hating him a whole lot easier.
> 
> How many times does he have to save his ass for George to realise Dream is only trying to help?
> 
> How many times does George need to convince Dream he doesn't need it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing really important to say, I hope you enjoy it I guess :)
> 
> OH ACTUALLY,
> 
> This chapter is more than likely going to be the last one written in third person, my friend pointed it out to me so I'll write from either George or Dream's POV from here on out!
> 
> Enjoy x

**Natural Selection:**

Night-time had already begun it's slow, steady crawl towards them once again.

It had been eerily quiet between the two since what Dream liked to call, _"George's little stunt.”_ They barely spoke on their resumed hike throughout the countryside, save for the occasional grumbled complaints from George, and Dream's very few cryptic directions.

The cool, summer nights air had blanketed over them as they came across an enclosed, overgrown area on their path and George had sighed. It bitterly reminded him of the one he'd already seen before earlier in the day, and his jaw had clenched automatically. 

George shook his head and scowled, tuning back into his surroundings as his thoughts began to trail towards more self-pity than anything else.

The scowl remained plastered to his face as Dream set up a little "camp" of sorts. 

He scoffed, shaking his head slightly from where he was seated on the ground. Dream had strictly ordered him to " _Stay put,"_ there as he wandered around to find some fire wood. George found that he wasn't exactly keen on pissing off an already time-ticking-Dream-bomb more than once in just a single hour, so he reluctantly obeyed. 

He was more than willing to just sit and watch as Dream did most of the work anyway.

As of now, the blonde was struggling mutely with setting up the unravelled tent, and George practically clicked his heels at the sight of it. He relished in what little moments there were of Dream showing weakness ever since their row, and this just so happened to be one of them; 

He was crouched down low, surrounded by the chaotic mess of tousled tent fabric. Scattered poles and pegs were carelessly thrown around him, and one massive looking rock rested by his feet. 

George happily crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back, and got comfortable enough to just sit and watch him struggle. Dream now had his brows pinched together in deep concentration, tugging on stray poles as he tried to forcibly push them through where they obviously weren't supposed to go.

George smirked, a mindless chuckle escaped from his lips... and then he immediately wished it hadn't.

Dream happened to hear it perfectly clear, and was already in the act of throwing a glance up at that _exact_ moment, and suddenly George was being cut off mid-chuckle.

The mess of poles and tent material dropped from Dream's hands in an instant. They hit the floor with a noisy rattle, and then there was a prolonged silence as George stubbornly met Dream's glare.

 _"Well?"_ Dream snapped eventually. "-Do _you_ want to do it instead?' He indicated towards the mess on the floor and George turned his nose up at it fractionally.

"Not particularly," He shrugged, before standing to brush the dust from his pants. "-but I suppose _someone_ has to do it, right?"

He hid his smile as he heard Dream mutter something incoherent under his breath, but George could take a wild guess as to what it implied.

Something involving him and where he could stick one of those poles, no doubt.

George dropped to a low crouch in front of what used to be a neatly folded tent kit, and then began sorting it into organised sections. 

Long poles to the left, short to the right. Pegs and flooring centred in the middle. He could do this blindfolded, he had went on many camping adventures with both Sapnap and Bad when they were kids- and it felt like muscle memory now as he billowed the fabric out to lay it down flat.

He set himself to work, ignoring the sounds of Dream making himself useful behind him, and started hammering the pegs into the ground with the massive rock. His thoughts began to wander as they often did, but this time he was wondering if Dream would even _allow_ him to sleep in this tent once he was done setting it up, after his little... _escape attempt_ from earlier. 

Better yet, how were they going to share the one sleeping bag he had brought?

George blanched at the thought.

He would sleep on the floor, he quickly decided- if Dream even _let_ him step one foot inside of the tent, was a different question. 

If not, maybe he would find a soft patch of moss somewhere-

A sudden crackle from behind him made him turn on the balls of his feet, casting a curious glance over his shoulder to find the source of the particular sound. 

A fire, small and subdued was flickering into life as he watched. It warmed his back faintly, the embers too small to provide much heat yet. He stared at it for another moment longer, before his eyes once again rose to meet those of his acquaintance's. He almost rolled them as they did, growing tired of the constant staring matches from a distance. 

Those green eyes never changed, always cold, always _questioning-_ as if daring him to say something out of pocket.

He didn't exactly understand _why_ , because as far as communication went- George had been mostly polite to Dream up until recent events.

And yet that strange look had been set deep in those eyes since they met. 

George tore his gaze away after he realised he'd been staring the whole time his thoughts spiralled, feeling a hot blush crawl across his skin. 

He turned his attention back to the tent, and tried not to let the eyes boring into the back of his head bother him too much as he got back to work. 

* * *

George sat in front of his finished product, hugging his knee's to his chest, which bloomed with a small swell of pride. 

He had managed to fix it together almost perfectly, so much so that it would have gained a slap on the back from Sapnap if George was at home. He frowned.

The thought made his heart drop abruptly, the familiar pang of homesickness accompanied it. _God,_ he missed that clown already.

He wondered if his friends were worried, if they were out there searching for him _right_ now... how long they would search for him before they came to the same conclusion; _He wasn't coming back._

George swallowed thickly. _Would he_ ever _return home?_

He distracted himself from the thought by instead turning to watch Dream poke at the small fire with a long stick. He prodded it a couple of times, before swivelling to grab and throw some more of the fire wood he had gathered from earlier on top of it. George rubbed his wet eyes on his sleeve, sniffing quietly.

It was becoming somewhat difficult to swallow around that massive lump forming in his throat now.

He glanced up without really intending to, a deep blush settling in his cheeks when he found Dream already staring back at him, wide-eyed, of cours _e._

 _"S'nothing."_ He croaked, wincing as his voice cracked over the word. "Don't worry yourself _too_ much over it." It came out sharper than he had intended, so he avoided looking directly at Dream's face. He didn't need to add feeling guilty to the list of what he was already, _definitely_ feeling.

"I wasn't." 

Ah yes, he was merely enjoying the show.

George huffed out a bitter laugh, scrubbing his face with his sleeve now. _Why was he crying so much?_ This was embarrassing.

"I figured." He sighed, before finally looking up to meet Dream's unwavering gaze. "You don't seem like the worrying type."

He shrugged once, a twitch almost, of his shoulders. He didn't offer much for conversation, willing to sit and stare at George in silence for however long.

It made him bristle each time, chewing on his bottom lip unsurely. 

"You should sleep.' Dream offered, and George felt his brows rise in surprise. 

"Don't you want the sleeping bag for yourself?" He wondered aloud.

Dream shook his head. "I'll keep watch for now." He inclined his head toward the tent, and George didn't wait twice for him to voice the invitation. He was already on his feet, turning in towards the tent flaps to find the sleeping bag waiting for him inside. It practically called out for him, beckoning him forward like some kind of siren call.

Sleep deprivation at it's finest.

He kicked his boots off, not bothering to strip off more than just his shirt as he curled up underneath the insulating material.

He let the sound of the crackling fire drag him into the depths of a very deep sleep.

* * *

"Up. Wake _up_ , George."

Warm hands, wrapped around the top of his shoulders tightly, were suddenly shaking him from his blissful unconsciousness. But as soon as he blinked his tired eyes open, they were already gone- leaving a significant absence of heat behind with them.

"Huh? What?" He questioned drowsily, propping himself up onto his elbows. Dream's face was practically millimetres away from his own when he looked up clearly for the first time, and he sucked in a harsh breath. He felt his eyes widen fractionally as he peered into Dream's open expression, but then he was already rising into a stand- leaving George to stare at the front of his shins instead. George exhaled slowly, relaxing when he realised his shoulders had tensed.

"I said get _up_ , we need to get moving again." And then he was exiting the tent, leaving George to gather himself.

He instantly flopped back down into the soft material of the sleeping bag, dragging a worn out hand over his face. He groaned quietly, fumbling around for his shirt until his fingers finally ghosted along the familiar fabric. He threw it on over his head, sitting up now, and then he was dragging his disregarded boots back on once again. He laced them up with nimble fingers, his mind elsewhere.

Last night's sleep hadn't been the best he'd ever had, but that was to be expected when you were camping out in the middle of _nowhere_. His back ached dully, and he was missing- no, _longing_ for the familiar feel of his own bed. Heck, he was even longing for Sapnap's personal wake-up call. A smirk tugged on his lips.

He rolled onto his knee's, folding the sleeping bag up as neatly as possible, before carefully placing it back inside of the bag. He heard quiet grunts sound directly from outside of the tent, and assumed Dream was now trying to pry the pegs, _which he had hammered_ , back out of the ground. George allowed himself to fully smile this time, proud of his handy work. It would definitely take him a while or two to uproot those suckers. He laughed to himself quietly.

George rose to a low stand, hunching as he made his way out of the tent.

Today it was cloudy, and although the air was still humid- he was grateful for it. 

He didn't think he could cope with another day of sweltering under the intense heat from the sun. George shuddered at the unwelcome thought of it, before he threw a quick glance over his shoulder. He instantly spotted Dream straining himself over a specific peg George had _really_ made sure to nail deep into the ground, and chuckled under his breath. At the same time, his stomach simultaneously decided to rumble quite loudly.

His smile instantly dropped. _Beans._

_...Again._

This lifestyle was going to be torture. He just wanted a sandwich, for pete's sake. Was that too much to ask?

It seemed during the time spent wrapped up in the middle of his internal crisis consisting of _"the sun",_ and _"beans"_ , Dream had finally managed to pull the stubborn peg out of the ground- and was now beginning to drag the poles out from the tent.

George stilled. 

He turned and looked away quickly, trying not to act suspicious as he very slowly moved to grab his bag. He glanced towards the way they had come- the slight path they had worn into the grass, and took a small step towards it. Dream seemed preoccupied, and was _definitely_ distracted enough by that tedious tent, so that meant the window of opportunity would only last so long until he was no longer-

" _Don't_ , even think about it." Dream growled, and George jumped in surprise.

He whirled to face him. "Think about what?" He asked innocently in response, raising his brows for good measure. _Sweat_ , however, was already trailing in beads down his neck- he was fooling no one. 

"Don't play dumb either," Dream continued, and then shook his head. "-it's written all over your face like a damn book, stop being so... so _obvious_ about everything you're about to do." He scoffed. "You might as well have a blinking, _"Hey, look over here- look what I'm about to do!"_ sign dangling above your head." He put on a high-pitched voice to impersonate him, and then chuckled at his own joke. George glowered.

"Maybe if you just stopped staring at me all the time you wouldn't have to deal with this-this _issue._ " He shot back hotly, and Dream made a face.

"I don't stare at you." His brow creased incredulously, and George laughed loudly.

"Yeah! And _I_ haven't been kidnapped on some _wonderful_ adventure by a total psychopath either!" He exclaimed loudly, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Dream sighed, a harsh exhale from his chest and shook his head again. This time, he said nothing as he glared daggers at the disassembled tent, mouth set into a thin line as he worked to put it away once again. George let out an angered sigh and dropped his bag. He slumped to the floor in a frustrated heap, and then took the liberty to finish his half-consumed can of beans from yesterday, doing simply _anything_ to distract himself from the awkward prolonged silence between them. 

He tried not to think about the flavour _or_ the texture of his breakfast as it literally _slid_ it's way down his throat. He involuntarily made a face, winced and shuddered once it stayed down.

_Gross._

"Grab your bag," Dream ordered, finally cutting through the thick silence with his sharp, icy tone. "We're leaving."

George sighed, but complied nonetheless. It was like walking on eggshells with the guy. George wondered if they would ever be on good terms, or if they continue around on their parading adventure with complete and utter hostility for each other from here on out. 

He didn't know which one he preferred, being quite honest.

* * *

"One... two... three." Dream muttered under his breath with each stride.

George tried his best to not let it irk him, but after roughly ten minutes of the repetitive counting, he felt his patience begin to waver.

"Why are you counting?" He finally gave in, curiosity mixed with sheer boredom getting the best of him.

Dream however, didn't break his systematic rhythm, continuing to plough ahead as though he hadn't even heard him speak. George sighed, shaking his head slightly. 

_"One... two... three."_

He groaned, throwing his hands up in mute exasperation. They landed on his head with an audible _slap_ , but Dream merely continued on with his steady march. 

"One... two... three."

George glared daggers into the back of his head, clearing his throat purposefully loud. Dream ignored him.

 _"One, two, three-"_ George stopped moving, watching in angered frustration when Dream didn't even notice his sudden absence either- _he just kept walking!_

"Dream!" George exclaimed incredulously, glad when it finally stopped him dead in his tracks. "Can you stop that? That little nervous tick you suddenly seem to have? It's getting on my nerves." He placed both of his index fingers on either side of his temples, and feigned an exaggerated wince.

"Tick?" Dream frowned, "It's not a tick. It's helping me find where to go." He said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. George almost rolled his eyes.

"By _counting?_ " He deadpanned stubbornly.

" _Yes_ , by counting." He replied, in a tone that seemed to hold a serious edge of frustration. Which, of course, would have usually made George happy... _if_ it didn't sound like Dream was sounding it out to a small child instead. George scowled. "Now can we just keep moving?" Dream continued, "-We really shouldn't be stopping this much." He turned on his heel, and left George standing there with the scowl he hadn't even bothered to acknowledge.

George scoffed, before he threw a longing glance over his shoulder. The grassy path stared right back at him, almost gloating. He shuffled on his feet, as though weighing his options- then threw his head back and groaned loudly.

He gritted his teeth, cursed under his breath, and then reluctantly dragged his feet to slowly trail behind _that_ \- that...

 _-_ total _jackass._

* * *

Thankfully, Dream had ultimately decided to leave the counting _inside_ of his head as they continued onwards, much to George's relief.

He was still practically seething- and he didn't think his patience would last long enough to avoid yet another confrontation.

He wondered absently how Dream's technique could even help them. Was he using it to count up how many miles they had already trekked? Or maybe he was just pacing their average rate... Whichever it was, it seemed to be steering them in the right direction.

On the horizon, just barely visible due to the low hanging, grey clouds- George could spot a small, resting village. Familiar, he guessed that he might have been there once before as a child, but the memories were hazy now as he tried to recall any of them. 

If Dream had spotted it as well, he didn't give any indication away, acting indifferent as the buildings began growing closer towards them.

George opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it, and shut it once more. Wasted breath, it was obvious where they were headed now anyway.

He continued to trail behind Dream, dragging his feet slightly as he tried to guess what they might need from this new place. Food, obviously. Clothes? Maybe. Did Dream even have any money? Or were they just going to... George gulped. 

Their fugitive/criminal titles were perhaps about to become an actual reality- maybe he wouldn't be so innocent of becoming a victim to persistent trackers after this trip was done. George felt his blood run cold, and momentarily went still as his eyes widened.

Dream breezed through the village smoothly, his facade of indifference never once wavering. George, however, had a bit more trouble trying to relax once the thought had already popped into his mind. His eyes darted around, searching desperately for a means of escape before he could even try act less suspicious.

Vivid images of those trackers, being physically _hunted,_ were suddenly playing on loop at the forefront of his mind- and he was having some trouble trying to make them disappear as easily as he had made them _appear._

He was sweating, hands balling themselves into tight fists as he desperately stared into the faces of passing strangers. Would they help him if he shouted? Or would they simply cast a blind eye- throw him aside like he was no more than just a total deranged nutcase? His tongue felt heavy as he slowly swiped it across his bottom lip.

 _"Escape, George!"_ His entire body was practically screaming out to him, and he could feel himself beginning to spiral.

Was he about to get sick? That familiar feeling of anxiousness had returned, and he swallowed thickly- his mouth growing completely dry.

It was like he was stuck in the middle of that godforsaken field all over again.

Both fear _and_ dread simultaneously pooled deep at the bottom of his stomach at once, setting his nerves alight.

 _The field_. 

The floor was spinning _and_ rising to meet him all at once in an instant. He blinked, and his head suddenly felt unbalanced as it lolled side to side around his neck.

It was then that Dream threw a curious glance over his shoulder, and hesitated once he saw George's expression, brows lifting fractionally.

His gaze scanned around them quickly, before he moved to grab George's arm. Dream dragged him into a dark alleyway before he could even open his mouth to protest.

George clenched his teeth, willing his lips to move and voice the words in particular, but his entire body now screamed in protest. He felt weighed down by some unrelenting force of gravity as Dream moved to hold him upright against a cold, brick wall. He barely registered the sudden chill sent shooting up his back.

"You need to calm down." Dream demanded once they were alone, grasping George's shoulders tight. Dream tried to leave them go, but was instantly grabbing them once again as George tipped forward unsteadily.

He barely managed a nod in agreement, chest rising and falling frantically. What was happening? He was having quite some trouble breathing now-

"Hey-" Dream snapped his fingers in front of George's face, who blinked at the action blankly. "Look at me, eyes on me. C'mon, George." Dream bent down to peer into his eyes levelly, and George sucked in a shuddered breath. "Focus on my breathing instead." Dream grabbed George's clammy hand and placed it over his chest.

His fingers trembled over Dream's warm chest, but he could also feel the calm presence of his heartbeat resting there. George compared it to the feeling of his own frantic beating heart, and winced. He stared at Dream with wide eyes, and then reluctantly closed his own. He used the steady rise and fall of Dream's warm chest to ground him back down to earth. 

He focused on his breathing, mirroring Dream's calm and slow exhales.  
  
In and out.   
...

In and out. 

...

In and out.

Eventually, the unrelenting force of gravity didn't seem _as_ suffocating as before- and the weight on his lungs was continuing to lift as he mimicked Dream's breathing. 

He sucked in a ragged mouthful of fresh air, as though he was finally breaking through the surface of deep surrounding water, and then gasped. He began to feel in control of his limbs once again, and breathed a sigh of relief.

He opened his eyes.

"Better?" Dream asked, still sticking close. George licked his dry lips, nodding slowly as he felt a faint blush gather in his cheeks. "I'm fine- I'm alright." He croaked, a blatant lie. But Dream nodded, stepping back to give him some more room to breathe.   
  
George let his hand fall limp. 

"Sorry about that." He muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. He tugged on the roots, releasing another sigh as he did so. Dream shrugged.

"Does that happen often?" His voice was soft- it didn't hold the familiar rough, icy note it had previously held whenever they spoke before. George shook his head.

"Sometimes." He averted his eyes from looking at Dream, peering out onto the street they had just come from instead.

Curious faces, passing by with slow, deliberate crawls gazed back at him with wide eyes, and he ducked his head in embarrassment. 

He heard Dream sigh, then a hand clamped over his shoulder and he was being led back out of the alleyway. 

Did he know that George had been planning to escape again?

...

What was he going to do now? 

They were back onto the street again, and George gulped another mouthful of fresh air down greedily. He closed his eyes shut, removing any lingering unpleasant, _triggering_ images from his mind. 

Dream was steering him towards a building when he opened them again- a red bricked inn with dark, spruce doors, and he let the surprise register in his head.

_Why? Weren't they supposed to keep moving? What was he doing?_

He tried not to panic again as Dream removed the hand resting on his shoulder, and instead merely watched as he moved towards the entrance of the inn with some newfound purpose. 

Once again George trailed behind him hesitantly, catching the door mid-swing after him. Dream was already at the desk when George made his way into the small, quaint room. The floor was covered in headache-material-type tiles. Black and white, the latter of which encasing the former in large square shapes. George glanced up, noting the old, wooden staircase to the left, beside the reception desk. Perched behind it sat a woman, maybe mid-to-late 30's, short height, average shape. Unremarkable to George's account.

A neat bundle of chestnut hair balanced on top of her head, and a pair of glasses danced on the bridge of her nose. George inspected her closely, then glanced at the back of Dream's head as he did so. What was he thinking?

As the thought popped into his head, the woman looked up- revealing a perfect row of white teeth behind a pleasant smile as she noticed Dream standing there. His stomach twisted. 

"Hi! I'm Doris, what can I do for ya today, hun?" She chirped. Her voice was a twinkle of bells. George continued to eye her cautiously.

"Hello." He stilled at the sound of Dream's clear, polite tone. "I was wondering if there was a room available, just for tonight. We would be out of your hair early by tomorrow morning." George frowned. By the sounds of it, Dream was smiling- for extra measure? George did a double-take. _Why, why, why..._ why?

 _Was_ this _his punishment for absolutely freaking out? A roof over his head, an actual_ bed _to rest in..._ he was completely and utterly baffled.

Just then, Doris glanced around Dream's frame and seemed to acknowledge George's presence for the first time. Her expression shifted to one of slight surprise.

"Oh.' She voiced, almost accidentally, and then smiled to quickly recover herself. "I'm sorry, hun, but we only have one room available at the moment. And it only provides a single king sized be-"

"That would be perfect." Dream cut over her, and George felt his eyes bulge out of their sockets. _What?_

 _"Oh,"_ Doris voiced again, although this time the surprise was evident on her face, reflecting exactly how _he_ felt inside. George felt his cheeks burst into flames. 

_One bed?_

"Okay then!" The chirp was back, but George could detect a hint of disappointment hidden in there. He wanted to scream.

He would kill Dream for this. 

"Here's your key. Up the stairs, first door on the left!" She was still smiling, George tried to tell if it was strained or not. "Dinner services start at six and end by eight, remember that. Would you like any breakfast tomorrow morning?"

Dream shook his head, offering an endearing grin as he turned. George could see it clearly now, the charm that he held over the poor woman. "No, that's alright. Thank you, though.'

He locked eyes with George then, indicating towards the stairs with a single nod of his head. Dream dangled the key out in one, distracted hand as he dealt with the payment. George almost growled as he snatched it out of his grip furiously. He ground his teeth together, _hard_ , before all but stomping his way up to the second floor.

How embarrassing- did he really have to say _yes?_ When there was probably plenty of other inn's scattered around in this damn village _alone??_

_This had to be some kind of punishment, surely??_

...

He would have preferred sleeping in the tent, that’s for sure.

* * *

Dream shut the door quietly behind him, but George didn't bother look up.

He was perched on the window seat, glaring down into the street below with his anger directed somewhere else. Somewhere as of mere seconds ago, very close to the door- to be exact _._

He had taken one glance at the king sized bed when he walked in, and blatantly gawked. It was massive, inviting even- but very... _intimate_ -looking. Private. To a certain level of discomfort for George.

He had chosen to stare out of the window after that, and hadn't moved either since then. 10 minutes? Approximately, it had been. 

His teeth clashed together once again when the source of his anger joined him by his side.

"You're angry." He observed, and George clenched his jaw. So they were stating the obvious now, were they?

Dream sighed, as if reading his thoughts, and turned to sit on the soft cushions. He stared up at George's face until he could no longer take it.

"Yes, I'm angry!" He exclaimed incredulously, throwing his hands up for emphasis. "Why the _hell_ did you say yes to that woman?"

Dream frowned. "Because we needed somewhere to stay...?" He responded slowly, brow creasing.

George shook his head. "You don't get it." He snapped harshly, before returning to glare out of the window once again.

Dream shrugged. "You're right- I _don't_. So please, if you wouldn't mind, enlighten me." He tilted his head to the side, trying to meet George's gaze fruitlessly.

"I-you, I don't..." He stuttered uselessly, breaking his glare to stare at Dream dubiously. "You really don't know?"

Dream shook his head earnestly, and George sighed. _So he didn't know he had been planning to escape after all._

He eyed Dream warily, and then begrudgingly pointed a finger behind them without looking. Dream followed along the line of it, until his gaze finally landed on the innocent mattress.

"You're... unhappy with the bed?" He slowly wondered aloud, and George hung his head in embarrassment. 

_"Yes."_

"You would like a different one? Bigger, smaller?..." Dream was grasping at straws and George stuttered in disbelief.

"I-what? _No._ It's not about the damn _size_ of the bed, you moron!" A blush rose up his neck, and he shook his head. "Just forget it." He growled, "I guess I'll just have to endure it."

Dream made a displeased sound at the back of his throat, obviously not happy that he hadn't guessed right, before rising into a stand.

"Okay then. Can I... can I just trust you enough to stay here if I leave for a bit?" Dream questioned, now staring down at him with the towering height difference.

George chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"I'm serious, George." He continued on with that intense look in his eye, "-I promise I'm just trying to keep you safe. Running away... well, it doesn't really solve anything."

 _Crap, he_ did _know-_ _right?_

"-It just causes more problems, it's dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt if I'm not there to help." He made a face, and then his features smoothed themselves out again. "I just need to run a few errands, grab supplies for us both... I shouldn't be gone for longer than two or three hours, and then I'll be back. Can I trust you?" 

George swallowed thickly. _Could he?_ Would he be making an empty promise if he said yes? 

He stared into Dream's eyes, seeing the honesty there- and also the mild concern. George sighed through his nose, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.

_This went against everything he had just wanted to fight for about 15 minutes ago._

He folded his arms over his chest, and then hung his head. " _Yes_." George eventually muttered in defeat, "I won't try to run away." He promised quietly.

_On the bright side, maybe if he fell asleep early he wouldn't have to deal with the bed situation._

Dream nodded too, looking relieved as he smiled down at him, enough so that his cheeks were dimpling slightly. George felt his stomach twist- in anxiety? Again? What was that feeling? He tried not to think about it, worrying that another breathless attack would overtake his senses if he did. He needed to stay relatively calm.

"Okay, I guess that's settled then. Like I said, I won't be too long. Help yourself to that dinner service, it's on me." He patted George's shoulder, and then he left.

George breathed out a heavy sigh of relief.

* * *

He brushed his hand along the crushed-velvet duvet cover, wondering why he was still sweating so badly.

 _He was losing complete control of his body- that was_ why.

He had never felt this way before. Was he sick? A fever of some kind, perhaps? Sleeping outside would have done a number on his body, surely...

But as he focused more on the feeling, singling it out from the rest- he felt no flare of distress signals in his mind, nor his body. No, it was something else. He just... couldn't put a finger on it quite yet. George sighed in frustration.

He couldn't even fully understand his own body now, something that _belonged_ to him- how pathetic. He sat on the edge of the bed, chewing on his bottom lip as he took in his surroundings appreciatively for the first time.

It was a nice room, decent even. 

The king sized bed was obviously centred in the middle of it, dressed in green, crushed-velvet duvets and white bedding. Green and white pillows, too. He glanced up, and gulped. There was even... there was even a canopy over the bed. He flushed, and quickly looked away. From where he was sitting, there was a fireplace to his left, the hearth a wide and open space suited for a roaring fire. _Why was he still anxious?_ He shook his head. In front of the fire, two comfortable-looking wooden chairs, lined with red cushions. On top of those, smaller green cushions that matched the colour of the duvets perfectly. A very... well thought-out room, to say the least.

George patted the sides of his thighs awkwardly.

 _What was he supposed to_ do _for two to three hours?_

He sighed, before he started to kick off his boots. An early night it was, then.

* * *

The first of his senses to wake was his sense of smell, picking up a delicious aroma in the room.

His stomach rumbled, and then his sense of sound heightened- crackling. _Another fire_. Dread slowly replaced his feelings of hunger. He hadn't slept through the entire night. He had no choice but to face the music now.

Dream had returned.

George blinked his eyes open slowly, testing out his surroundings carefully. He was facing towards the large window on his right, which showed him a dark, cloudless night sky outside. He minutely wondered what time it was, before he tuned his ears back in. Movement, behind him- the sound of Dream no doubt- tending to the fire before settling back into one of the cosy, wooden chairs. The smell hit him again, and his stomach lurched. It smelled _so_ damn good. 

He licked his lips, and then squeezed his eyes shut. This was his last chance to try and go back to sleep, to not deal with the inevitable situation that would surely follow suit-

"I can hear your stomach rumbling, you might as well eat this food while it's still hot."

_Crap._

The jig was up, maybe he wasn't as good of an actor as he thought- or maybe his stomach really _did_ just betray him like that. Whatever the reason was, he cursed it.

He sighed, before slowly twisting to roll onto his other side, and then was facing his own personal hell.

As he guessed, Dream was in-fact lounging in one of the wooden chairs by the fire, balancing a heaped plate of food on his lap. He sent George a tired, lazy grin and he felt his chest constrict painfully. He really _was_ hungry. 

"You caught me." George frowned. "Was my stomach really _that_ loud?"

"Nope, but I had a 50/50 chance of you actually being awake." Dream chuckled. 

...

George mentally face-palmed, but _did_ let out an audible groan.

Dream frowned, feigning being hurt by placing an indignant hand over his heart. George rolled his eyes, before he threw his legs over the side of the bed. He shook his head in disbelief, choosing to ignore the stupidity of his decision to roll over, and purposefully avoided Dream's gaze. He rose into a stretch, balancing on his tip-toes for a few seconds before relaxing back down. Dream's eyes followed the movement.

"What's for dinner?" George asked curiously, oblivious to the action. 

Dream gave him an easy smile, before handing him a similar- if not _mirrored_ plate to his own. A roast, it seemed, steaming beef slabs adorned with thick gravy making his mouth water. A mountain of creamy, mashed potatoes with an assortment of roasted vegetables, too. George heard his stomach rumble a second-no, a _third_ time and quickly took a seat in the vacant wooden chair. Dream held some cutlery out to him, and George didn't hesitate- digging into the food as soon as the metal utensils were in his hands.

He took his first bite, and his eyes widened. "Wow." He voiced, putting it simply.

Dream chuckled, but was nodding in agreement. "Definitely wow, beats a mouthful of beans- doesn't it?"

George's eyes were still wide, awestruck as he nodded absently. He didn't really want to think of beans right now.

They ate in comfortable silence, staring into the dancing flames of the fire in a lulled trance. George could feel that familiar fuzzy feeling of tiredness begin to crawl it's way back inside of his mind, even though he had just been asleep for the entire time Dream had disappeared for. The thought stirred his curiosity, and he let his eyes roam around the room until they finally landed on some bags resting close to the door, that hadn't been there before he went to sleep earlier.

So Dream really _had_ gone shopping. His chewing slowed. There was really no point in him wondering what their contents held, he was sure to find out by tomorrow- and yet his interest was still piqued nonetheless.

"You can take a look at them." Dream shrugged, and George stilled when he realised he was being watched. "There's really nothing that interesting in there, but I suppose you'll be happy to know that you'll no longer be on a canned beans diet." He smirked when he watched George's jaw drop at the revelation, before he fumbled to get to his feet in a rush. 

He didn't even hesitate to put the plate down, crossing the room with it held tight in his grip. He awkwardly placed it on the floor as he crouched down, dragging one of the few bags towards him instead. He dropped a hand inside of it, rummaging around until his fingers brushed against cool metal. His fingers wrapped around the mysterious item and he pulled it out. 

His face subsequently fell as he stared at the revealed can of... _tinned soup?_

George frowned, his disappointment evidently showing on his features.

A wheeze broke through the silence, and George whirled to see Dream doubling over in breathless laughter. He scowled.

"That's not funny." George muttered, leaving it carelessly roll out of his palm to land back inside of the bag. He frowned when it didn't make the anticipated metal-hitting-the-floor sound, and leaned over the bag once again.

His eyes widened in surprise.

He peered inside, spotting a folded piece of fabric at the bottom of the bag that absorbed the sound of the still-rolling metal can, and timidly reached inside of the bag once more. He pulled the material away from the assortments of canned soup, before holding it up to the light to see more clearly. 

A light blue- almost grey hoodie dangled in his grip, the fabric soft between his fingers. George sucked in a sharp breath.

"-Well, do you like it or not?" Dream chuckled, already crossing the room to stand directly in his line of sight, behind the hoodie held tightly in his grip.

"... George?" His tone was now hesitant.

George silently stared back at him with wide eyes.

Dream held up two hands in mock surrender. "Hey, don't look at me like that, I'm just returning a favour." He grinned as he tugged on his own green hoodie, and George swallowed thickly- finally finding his voice again.

"I... This, you-... T-Thank you." He said breathlessly, and his throat constricted. He struggled to regain control of his breathing, and had to take a deep breath- closing his eyes momentarily. He lowered the hoodie down into his chest, leaving the soft fabric tickle at the skin by the base of his neck. He opened his eyes and smiled.

"I'm glad you like it, I wasn't sure..." Dream trailed off and shook his head, smiling again. "I'm glad you like it." He repeated in finality, and George huffed out a laugh. 

"I don't." He admitted, and watched Dream's face automatically fall. He grinned. "I love it." 

It was the truth.

Dream exhaled in a whoosh of air mixed with a nervous laugh, dragging a hand through his hair. He fisted the roots there, and sent George a narrowed look. "Not funny."

George shrugged, "You deserved it, for the _soup_." He grimaced at the reminder of the contents resting at the bottom of the bag, irritated resolve breaking when Dream wheezed once again.

"Oh come on now, _that_ was funny."

George sniffed, fighting the smile creeping onto his lips. 

"I can see you laughing! Don't act like you didn't find that _funny-_ " He was cut off by another wheeze and George couldn't help but laugh. 

" _See!_ " Dream shouted between laughs, clutching his stomach tight. George laughed harder, more at Dream's squawks than anything else.

Dream collapsed back onto the bed, burying his face into his hands as his laughs died down to mere chuckles. He didn't notice George's cease from laughter altogether. 

He began kicking off his boots, and George felt his cheeks flame in silent horror. _This_ was what he had been dreading- all night long. The _bed_.

He would have to face the inevitable.

He rose on trembling knee's, hanging by the end of the mattress silent and awkward. He dropped the hoodie back into the bag wordlessly and, when he glanced up again, Dream was already peeling his shirt off. George immediately whirled around, jaw tight.

 _What was_ happening? _Why was he acting like this?_

His heart threatened to hammer out of his chest, fluttering like the wings of a humming bird. 

_He needed to calm down._

His chest constricted, as though his heart was silently pleading with him to do so as well. He was tensed up like some coiled spring ready to let loose, and he had to work for his muscles to relax once more. He exhaled a long breath.

Dream let out a content sigh, then grunted slightly. George frowned.

"What was that?" He asked without turning around. He distracted himself by crouching to unlace his boots deliberately slow.

Dream let out another grunt, before huffing in exasperation. "Damn shoulder, still hurts." He grumbled, and George blinked. 

"Oh." He turned around hesitantly, and then bit his lip unsurely.

Dream was still where he last was- except now he was sitting up against the headboard with the _very_ significant absence of his shirt missing. 

George watched him nurse his tender shoulder, unwrapping the cloth that had been used as a makeshift bandage, before he quickly averted his gaze away once again.

"You can get into bed, I'll be right back." Dream muttered, holding the cloth up to his shoulder gingerly as he carefully manoeuvred his way off of the bed. He padded towards a separate door George hadn't even noticed before, to the right of the fireplace, and then disappeared inside. A bathroom, no doubt. George made a mental note to use the best of the facility before he would be without one come morning.

He rolled his shoulders, and then his head a few times.

_Breathe._

He was only feeling this way now because he didn't fully trust Dream yet- that was why he was so nervous.

_Breathe._

It would be okay, he could handle it- sleeping in the same bed as him. George winced. When was the last time he had shared a bed with Sapnap or Bad? Why did this have to feel so different from then?

_Trust._

-Because he trusted them, and he _didn't_ trust Dream... George sighed, shaking his head slightly. That didn't feel like it exactly, but he was okay settling with that conclusion for now.

He kicked his boots off, perching on the edge of the mattress. He licked his lips once, _twice_ \- a nervous habit.

_Relax._

He settled back into the comfortable pillows, took a deep breath- and then was tugging his shirt up and over his head.

He let it drop to the floor, frowning down at his pants. Would he leave them on? He didn't know... Surely it would get too warm at some point- and he would get too uncomfortable with them on, right? He wasn't exactly keen on the idea of waking Dream up in the middle of the night because he was trying to get his _pants_ off.

He cringed, but needed to make the decision _now._

_On or off..._

_On or off, George?_

On _or_ off _-_

The bathroom door swung open, revealing a very shirtless- very _pant-less_ Dream, standing in the middle of the doorway.

George felt something die inside, or was that simply his soul leaving his body? He couldn't tell. He swallowed thickly, and then was shuffling to tug his trousers down over his hips. He kicked them the rest of the way off, and then quickly covered himself in the blankets.

Dream hadn't even looked up yet, securing a fresh new piece of cloth to his wounded shoulder. 

George tore his gaze away from him and rolled onto his side, so that his back was facing Dream, and then squeezed his eyes shut.

His heart was thundering fast again, hammering against his ribcage. He could also hear it sound directly in his ear, pressed up against the pillow, and failed to tune it out.

Dream sighed, and then his light footsteps were padding across the threshold towards him. George forced his breathing to slow, taking staggered breaths as the mattress dipped beside him. 

Dream said nothing as he too got comfortable in bed, and George relaxed slightly. The only light in the room was coming from the fire, and as it died- the room also began to grow dark as well. George buried deeper beneath the weighted blanket, exhaling deeply. He had worked everything up too much before, this was fine.

He couldn't even _feel_ Dream's presence on the other side of the mattress. It was a relief, one he hadn't exactly been expecting.

* * *

Ten minutes went by, and George felt like an active wire overflowing with electric current.

He couldn't actually relax as easily as he thought he could- his muscles were coiled taut and his eyes remained wide open.

He hadn't heard a sound from Dream in the entire time he had been tossing and turning, and it was becoming maddening. He frowned, cocking his head up slightly. 

_Was he even breathing?_

_Why couldn't he hear him?_

_Why was everything so... deafeningly_ silent _all of a sudden?_

George rolled onto his other side, blinking so that his eyes could adjust to the dark room. Was Dream still there? He couldn't really tell.

Maybe if he just stretched his hand out just to make sure-

"What are you doing?"

George let his hand drop instantly. "You can see that?"

His low, rumbling laughter in response shook the bedframe- and George was grateful that the darkness could at least hide his instant blush. 

" _Yes,_ I can. What were you doing?" Dream chuckled, and his breath washed over George's face. 

_Why was he so close to him now?_

_It was as though he couldn't do anything but_ _acknowledge him now, and the sudden the switch-up was overwhelming._

George could practically feel the heat radiating off of his body in waves. He could _smell_ him, and his hair. His scent was earthy, and also held a note of sweetness George couldn't exactly lay a finger on. It was like walking into a greenhouse full of abundant flowers you could only ever find hidden deep beneath the forest. It was intoxicating, and made his head spin slightly. "I-Um..." He trailed off, his hazy mind proving to not be of much help to him. "-I dunno." The words blurted themselves out quickly, and George huffed a breathless laugh.

_What was that?_

"You have such a way with words." Dream muttered, but George could hear the smile in his voice. It seemed to be contagious, because he was smiling too.

"I know." He whispered, and then a giggle escaped from his lips. He froze. He stared wide-eyed into the darkness, but Dream's answering laugh made him instantly relax, settling back into the mattress comfortably.

His response was reassuring, because _that_ was definitely something Sapnap would have jumped to make fun of him for back at home. He cringed.

"I am really glad that you liked your hoodie, by the way." Dream mumbled, voice already thick with sleep. George blinked rapidly, trying to make his face out in the dark.

George nodded, then frowned. "You really didn't need to get it, you know. I didn't even know you were even stashing money somewhere on you." He admitted, then immediately wished he hadn't. He didn't _need_ to know. "-I mean, you just never _said_ anything that would have... implied so."

He could faintly see Dream's lips now, and watched them curl into a wry grin. "Maybe I'm a man of many secrets."

"Like?" George prompted, and felt his chest bloom when he heard Dream chuckle again. "-What's your darkest one?" He urged.

" _-Like...”_ Dream mumbled, and then went silent for a moment. “I don't know. I hate babies, probably?"

George felt his brow furrow in disbelief. "The darkest secret you have- that you could _possibly_ think of right now, in this moment of time... is that you hate _babies?_ What did they ever do to you?" A bubbling laugh escaped from his lips, and he clamped a hand over his mouth to silence it.

But he could still feel Dream animatedly nodding his head frantically to his words, and also when he shifted so that he was now lying flat on his back. 

George caught the movement of his hands freeing themselves from beneath the duvet to make gestures as he spoke; "Yes! I can't help it. Their sticky hands and weird facial expressions, it creeps me out. I'm an active baby hater." A wheeze collapsed his chest once more, and George buried his face with his hands.

His laugh was too contagious.

"That's ridiculous." He chimed, but grinned nonetheless.

"What about you?" Dream redirected the conversation back to him, and George flustered slightly.

"What _about_ me?" George asked stupidly, already knowing what his answer would be.

"Oh _come on_ , don't act dumb. What's your darkest secret- since I've already shared mine." Dream clarified, and then he was rolling onto his side again- facing George once more as he used his hand to prop his head up. George followed the trail of his toned arm absently.

"Well," He bit his lip, mind suddenly going completely blank... save for one little exception. "No, it's too embarrassing." George shook his head. "Can I just use the " _I'm an active baby-hater"_ card as well?" 

Dream laughed quietly, and then his tone was completely serious as he whispered; " _No_ , just tell me."

His eyes were blazing in the dark.

George swallowed thickly. "It's really... not that extraordinary." He continued, but Dream's gaze was unrelenting. He sighed. "Alright fine..." He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. 

"-I'm... I'm left-handed." 

" _George!_ "

He laughed loudly, immediately shushing himself by clamping another hand over his mouth, until his laughter died down to mere giggles once more. Dream huffed in exasperation, but George could still feel the laugh vibrating in his chest that instantly gave him away. 

The vibrations moved throughout the mattress like ripples in a pool of tranquil water. 

"Just _tell me_." Dream practically whined, and George finally relented.

"Alright alright- I'll tell you." He sighed, pursing his lips slightly. "I..." He hesitated, using his scrutinising gaze to peer directly into Dream's eyes. They were open, honest and... trustworthy. George _could_ trust him.

His jaw clenched, and then he was allowing himself to continue onwards with his hidden truth. 

"I'm deathly afraid," He admitted in a hushed whisper. "-of this, of _you_. What we're doing- being practically _hunted_... I didn't allow myself to fully process it up until earlier today and I-I... panicked. Badly." George gnawed on his bottom lip. "I'm terrified." He deadpanned, releasing the heavy sigh that was pent up in his chest. It felt good to finally put it into words, what he was currently feeling.

However, the silence had dragged out for a long enough time between them, and George instantly regretted voicing his words. _It was a mistake._

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"I'm scared too."

George stilled. "You... you _are?_ " He repeated slowly, letting the words sink into his head. Dream had to be lying-just saying the words that would make him feel better, surely?

But no, he was nodding his head again, a harsh breath escaping through his teeth. "I'm scared," Dream started, and suddenly his breath was washing over George's face like before, "-of being hunted, yes, but also of possibly seeing _you_ get hurt. I had to drag you into this mess- unwillingly and... I would feel completely and _utterly_ responsible if anything bad were to happen to you." Dream ran a hand through his hair. "I did something, something _bad,_ a long time ago..." His voice was little over a whisper now, and George had to strain his ears to listen intently. "-the group that are tracking us, they aren't really forgiving people." A bitter laugh escaped from his lips. "I knew that if I were to leave you back at that village alone, especially after they'd already seen us together, they would no doubt loop back around to find you once I was done leading them away. To get to me. I’m scared that I won’t be able to keep you safe like everyone else." His hands tightened into fists, and George felt his eyes widen.

_Everyone else?_

Another silence- this time from George's end, and he opened his mouth to break it instantly. "Thank you- for saying that and for... for looking out for me, I guess." He clarified, mouth bobbing open like a fish at the end of his sentence.

Dream smiled hesitantly. "You're welcome, George."

His sentence ended with a stretched out yawn, and George tried not to feel too disappointed- or better yet _desperate_ , with the fact that their conversation could be coming to a rapid close. Maybe this would be only time he would see this very vocal, very _open_ side of Dream ever again _._ He was suddenly frantic, scrambling for something to say before the thoughts could even register in his head.

" _Dream-_ " George whispered breathlessly, and then hesitated... until a mumbled response signalled that he was in-fact, still awake. George sighed. What was he going to say now? He didn't have a back up plan, he had just wanted to spend the rest of this time _talking_ to him. How could he ask for that simple request without it sounding weird?

"Yeah?" Dream prompted, making an effort to sound slightly louder when George didn't immediately respond.

The moon had shifted enough in the sky to signal time passing by, and now loomed directly above their window- casting a white spotlight onto the pair.

George sucked in a shuddered breath when he could finally see Dream's face lit up clearly; his vulnerable _on-the-brink-of-sleep_ expression, and his golden blonde hair that now looked stark white against the green backdrop of pillows. George gaped, utterly transfixed, at the sight of the bare, _tanned_ skin of his chest, before he struggled to drag his gaze back up to admire Dream's face once again. 

Green eyes, gleaming bright, reflected in the moonlight and in return met his gaze fiercely. But... but his expression still remained soft, and George couldn't help but marvel back at the sight of him in complete wonder.

That familiar, guarded wall was there- simmering beneath the surface, but also something else. Something more. George felt his brow crease. _What was that emo-_

Dream's eyes fell shut, his jaw tightened, and his expression hardened once again.

He rolled over and said nothing.

George laid frozen solid in place, staring at Dream's rigid back until the moons spotlight had shifted along the night sky again and left the room surrounded in total darkness, save for the few slowly dying embers of the fire. Only then did he silently roll onto his other side, clutching his hands to his chest in complete and utter baffled confusion.

_What the hell just happened?_


	5. Wild Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George finally faces the unfamiliar, foreign feelings that are tormenting him- and also learns how to move past whatever the hell last night was. 
> 
> As the pair resumes their journey onward, tensions rise, and George is left as bewildered as the day they met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All chapters are going to be from first-person POV from here on out! 
> 
> I hope it makes the story better, and also more easy to read! I'm dumb so didn't think before I began writing this story :))
> 
> Hope you enjoy x

**Wild Thoughts**

George's POV

* * *

I desperately clung to the last few strands of unconsciousness in my mind, before they fell away to nothingness. As hard as it was not to hold my breath, deep down I knew I had quite a good reason to. I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter as a result, praying for sleep to drag me under once more- but alas, my eyes opened, squashing my hopes and subsequently facing my fears _for_ me.

It was morning. 

Swallowing hard, I breathed in slowly- careful not to make any sudden, noticeable movements as I took in my surroundings. 

I was facing the large window again, and blinked harshly against the bright sky outside.The sun was hanging low in the sky-it was early-but it still illuminated everything in brilliant streaks of hazy pinks and oranges, a pale blue creeping up on them as I continued to watch. The room was slightly chilly, and dead silent. I breathed again, this time a slow exhale, as I began to sit up. 

I propped myself up onto my elbows, letting the duvet fall to my waist, and then turned to my left.

Empty. 

I stared at where Dream's slow, rising and falling frame should have been resting, and felt an unfamiliar sinking feeling in the middle of my chest. I silently examined the crumpled sheets, and frowned. 

I sighed quietly, scanning the room once over, before folding my hands behind my head. I connected my elbows and tensed, sighing again on my guided way back down to meet the mattress. 

Minutes went by, dragging slow while I stared at the white ceiling overhead.

* * *

The sound of the door quietly opened and fell shut, and my head instantly snapped around to look.

_Dream._

My eyes widened as I took him in, scanning him from head to toe almost subconsciously. I took mental notes, taking in his mussed up hair and dark under-eye bags with a considerable amount of interest. My eyes dropped to his body, seeing that he was already fully clothed- in a new outfit I hadn't seen him wear before, and guessed that he had just indulged in it yesterday. He was still wearing his same, hideous shoes though.

That feeling in my chest lifted as I met his gaze again, relaxing slightly. I even managed a half-smile.

Dream met my gaze momentarily, then turned and said nothing as he disappeared into the bathroom before I could even utter a single word.

My smile dropped, and that hopeful feeling in my chest was snuffed into oblivion. My throat constricted once.

I carefully swung my legs over the edge of the mattress, and hesitantly pressed my feet to the cold floor. I peered over my shoulder, straining my ears to listen, but no sound emerged from the bathroom. I sighed heavily, and then rose. 

I glanced at the pile of my forgotten clothes resting on the floor, and then at the bags near the door. I bit my lip unsurely, and then quietly moved towards the latter of which. I peeled open one of the familiar bags, dragging my gifted hoodie out from under it. I threw it over my shoulder, and then scavenged through the rest. 

A pack of new underwear, sweatpants, and a plain white t-shirt (all in sizes that would probably fit _me_ instead of Dream), were divided among the rest of the bags. I pursed my lips at the small discovery, pretending to not have noticed it as I snatched a pair of fresh underwear from the pack, and then left the rest. 

I glanced towards the bathroom door once more. I stared at it until I eventually came to the conclusion that Dream wasn't going to come strolling back out any time soon and I could get changed in peace. I did so quickly, throwing on the items I had picked from the bag. I did however, decide to wear my own pants instead of the sweats. I carefully folded my used clothes into one of the now empty bags, and then shoved it into my main backpack. I would find somewhere to wash them along the way. 

I trailed my hands down my new hoodie slowly, noting the comfortable material that hugged my arms, and the rest that flowed over my body like a blanket. It was insanely soft, and I couldn't keep myself from repetitively dragging my hands up and down the fabric. I folded the hem under itself, and was instantly brought back to the time where Dream had exactly done so as well- not three days ago now. I chewed on my bottom lip, pushing the image from my head as soon as it had surfaced. 

I sighed, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, and waited.

* * *

Dream eventually emerged from the bathroom, silent and with his head bent down.

It was like he was intent on not acknowledging me at all, and so I couldn't help but feel _slightly_ dejected as he began packing the items away into my- _our_ bag, and then disposed of the shopping ones. I was also silent as I watched him, mostly due to the awkward atmosphere he had single-handedly created himself.

Questions revolved around the inside of my head- like," _why?",_ and,"- _seriously? Even after our conversation last night??"_

It made me wonder if last nights bonding session had even happened, or if I had just simply dreamed the whole experience up- but no, after catching certain glimpses of Dream's expression a couple of times, I knew that it had to have been real.

_So why was he so upset?_

_Wasn't it a_ good _thing that we were finally getting along?_

I couldn't wrap my head around his behaviour.

A frown remained plastered almost permanently to my face as Dream tittered around the room, packing the few things he had bought as well as preparing us for our journey ahead. Dread filled my stomach as I began thinking about it. 

"George."

I met his gaze instantly, a burst of nerves exploding in my stomach as I searched his eyes. Something swirled and pooled deep inside of them, and I found myself wondering if mine mirrored his. He didn't give anything away that would have indicated so in his cool features. 

"We're leaving." His voice was rough, and I blinked slowly- analysing the words for some deeper meaning- but of course, I found none. 

I nodded mutely and watched as he turned on his heel to leave, our original bags slung over his shoulder.

The door fell shut behind him with a _click_ , and I released the trapped breath I'd been holding. 

* * *

Dream checked us out quickly, thanking Doris for the hospitality- and also the delicious food, then turned to leave without even waiting up for me.

To be honest, it was hard not hang to every word he uttered had to her. I judged and turned them over and over in my head until they meant nothing but the typical polite kindness Dream used with everyone else except for me.

I was still being ignored and I couldn't possibly begin to understand why.

We left the inn roughly thirty minutes after I had woken up, and then we were travelling once again. 

Still heading east, the terrain was slowly starting to change as we blended into a different region altogether. It was a neighbouring state to my home, and I barely recognised the mountainous landscape. That being said, travelling on _such_ ground wasn't an easy task like I had originally thought. 

The first hour of our journey ventured mostly downhill- I was too caught up in my head to fully appreciate it while I had the small privilege. The next hour, however, was tortuous. Continuous uphill paths made my calves burn and my lungs heave in effort, rising up and up until my muscles screamed in protest. The air was thin, I was panting the entire time, and I couldn't seem to catch my breath as Dream silently trudged ahead. I wondered if he found it difficult to move as well, since he was carrying all of our bags of course, but he never voiced a single complaint. _A masochist, no doubt._

The third hour, the hour that we were now currently _in_ , had yet to be evaluated.

Thankfully, the ground had finally levelled out. Not that it made much of a significant difference- my muscles were already pushed way past comfort, and now the dull ache had already settled deep in to my tired bones. I had to ruthlessly keep pushing them forward just to trail behind Dream. 

I wonder how long he had been doing this, _living_ this kind of lifestyle. Had he been on the run for long before I met him? Weeks, months- maybe even years possibly?

I desperately wanted to know, to voice a single question, but the tension between the two of us still seemed to be thick and awkward.

I sighed, shaking my head at Dream's faraway, receding frame. 

He was a mystery. I wasn't sure that I would ever fully understand him- but maybe it was better this way though. I shouldn't grow too attached, if I was ever going to escape him that was. 

It would make things... _complicated_ , and I didn't need that.

He was getting quite far ahead. I should probably call for him to wait up... I glanced over my shoulder.

I could see the village from above now, in a birds eye view. It was resting below in what I didn't realise to be a settled valley. It looked small from where I stood, and already quite a distance away. I sighed again. _Too_ distant.

I turned and broke into a brisk jog. "Dream!" I shouted, and watched him slowly pivot around to face me.

"Wait up!"

* * *

The next half of the morning was uneventful. 

As the sun rose, the earth mirrored it, and we were climbing to serious heights on our measly little dirt path. It had magically formed into a growing mountain underneath our feet, and once again I found myself breathless and wheezing. Dream abruptly stopped before we could move onto the looming hardcore challenge that was our next climb, and I almost cried out in relief. 

I slumped onto a small boulder, and planted a hand to my chest. I could feel my heart being sent into overdrive- it thundered against my hand with each breath I took.

"That was intense." I muttered, staring at the path in which we had come. 

Dream ignored me once again as he moved to take a seat next to my feet. He leaned against the rock I was sat on, and shrugged the bags from his shoulders. He tipped his head back and shut his eyes, then released a heavy sigh.

I really tried my best not to watch him do so- but it was difficult not to gauge his reactions, and also very sluggish, _lethargic_ movements since he was sitting so close to me now. His golden hair looked dull and messy, as if he'd been tugging on it, and the bags underneath his eyes seemed darker than usual. I frowned. 

His eyelashes fluttered once, a warning, then he fiercely met my gaze.

"Dream." I said, intent on making it come out sounding level and strong- but instead it came out as no more than a mere, hushed whisper.

I had subconsciously started leaning over him, and his chin tilted upwards as I moved. He was stubbornly holding our eye contact, and I frowned back down at him. His mouth settled into a thin line once he scanned my face. 

"Are you okay?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them.

"Yes." He put it simply, but it didn't exactly reassure me. He knew that, of course- the smirk was already tugging at the corners of his lips as I watched, no matter how hard he tried to fight it. A characteristic wheeze escaped his from lips, and I immediately relaxed- then rolled my eyes. _Tension instantly dissolved._

I scoffed, hitting his shoulder. "Idiot. Does this mean you're going to start speaking to me again, your highness?"

"Your highness?' He laughed quietly, then cocked his head to the side. He was looking up at me through his lashes, and I instantly looked away- scanning the area around us quickly before my eyes inevitably returned to his face. I couldn't seem to help it- I had to be deprived of attention, because his presence felt somewhat magnetic to me now. It had to be the reasoning behind my... _strange_ behaviour. 

"You've been too busy acting like royalty all morning." I eventually replied dryly, and he smiled faintly. We stared at each other for another heartbeat longer, and then he tore his gaze away from mine. I sighed quietly in relief. His head started to lean to the side, until his hair brushed against my thighs, and then he relaxed fully. The weight of his head against my leg should have been annoying, but I really didn't mind it. I knew that he was tired, and I was willing to let him rest for now. 

I sighed quietly again, but allowed a small smile to grace my lips.

This was nice.

I could... _get used to it,_ maybe.

* * *

"Dream." I whispered.

It had been growing cold for a while now, until the air was icy and bitter- to the point where my teeth chattered and my breath clouded in front of my face even with the aid of the summer sun. We were surprisingly too high up now for it to help heat us up. Dream was miraculously still asleep, despite the chill surrounding us- but I knew that we needed to start moving again pretty soon.

"Dream." I repeated, shaking his shoulder. He groaned lowly, but his eyelids were already fluttering, signalling he was finally awake. I stilled, and watched as he slowly turned to blink up at me. I gulped as I stared back at him, but forced a smile onto my face.

"We need to go." I stated, and he instantly nodded in understanding- releasing a sigh as he detached himself from my side. He rolled his neck, stretched his arms over his head, and then rose into a stand. He offered a hand down to me and I took it, gasping once he jerked me upwards into an unbalanced wobble. I shot him a glare and he grinned wryly. He grabbed the bags from the ground, and sent me a knowing look. "You sure you're ready for this?" He challenged, indicating towards the steep, rocky climb ahead of us. 

I sighed, but nodded defiantly. "I'm sure." I replied, setting my jaw. 

"Good, because _that,"_ He pointed at the only path ahead of us, "-is the only way we're actually going to get around this mountain." He chuckled, and then started heading towards the looming snowcapped summit. 

I shook my head at his receding frame.

 _Unbelievable_.

* * *

"I'm on my way... from misery to happiness today," Dream sung under his breath. "Uh-huh... uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh." 

I rolled my eyes as I slowly shuffled behind him, sticking close to the side of the rock. The path had continued to grow narrower as we ventured across the steep, rocky mountain, and had also risen enough to form a looming edge- until we were now practically scaling the cliff surface instead of merely hiking it. 

"And everyday, that you receive up yonder..." He continued to mumble, terrifyingly off-tune. I gritted my teeth, both my concentration and patience wavering, as he continued to hum the same chorus over again and again. 

"I'm on my way-"

" _Dream._ " I finally growled, "I get it, you're on your way- so can you please just shut up now? You're going to be responsible for my death if I fall." I warned, and as if it was planned, gasped as my foot simultaneously slipped and dangled over the edge of the rock. I clutched the wall of earth desperately, and used it to regain my balance. Dream huffed out a single laugh, and I shot him another glare. "See? I _just_ told you so- and that wasn't even funny." I muttered bitterly.

"It was a little funny." He chuckled lightly, but ultimately listened to what I said, and we continued onward in concentrated silence.

I was using the rock-face as support to shuffle along, grasping pieces that jutted out to manoeuvre my way around them. "How much further?" I gasped, chest heaving with effort. 

Dream, for the first time, was finally showing some kind of exertion- his teeth were bared and his arm muscles were pulled taut. The ends of his hair had already started to curl from sweat- dangling both over his ears and his eyes, but he didn't seem to even notice- or _care_ for that matter. I didn't exactly want to think about how I looked in comparison standing next to him. He tipped his head back and groaned. I followed a bead of sweat that trailed down over his adams apple absently, and my stomach automatically tightened as a result. I frowned. 

"Maybe..." His head whipped around, gauging how far we had come and then looking in the direction we were headed. "I don't know- maybe another hour or two? I'm not exactly a hundred percent sure." His features twisted up into something of despair as he acknowledged the positioning of the sun. " _Shit,_ we might miss it..." He mumbled, and instantly started shuffling along the rock again. 

"Miss what?" I asked curiously, before carefully moving to follow behind him. My feet were slipping on sliding pebbles, and it made my heart lurch each time. Dream was surprisingly moving fast now, and hadn't even bothered to acknowledge my question. I sighed heavily in exasperation. _Another hour or two?_ I wasn't even sure I could make it that long, my arms were so tired...

_"Hurry up, George!"_

I rolled my eyes. _Oh how I missed the awkward silence between us right about now._ I glared at Dream's back, and then begrudgingly picked up my pace.

* * *

As the few more hours passed, and as the sun had also moved way past noon, we had finally made our way through the worst part of our journey so far.

I felt like a specific character in a book I'd once read before; Lord of the Rings, and Mr. Frodo Baggins. I've never fully related to someone more in my life up until now.

I related to the hard challenges he had faced, and also the crippling fear, and surprisingly I couldn't help but feel like something of a main character myself. Thanks to Dream, who had dragged me out of my own personalised shire of sorts. I just wished that Sapnap or Bad were here with me on my journey, experiencing everything hand-in-hand like the trio we once were back at home. I wished, so desperately, that they could experience the magnificent view I saw before me now. 

Once we had escaped from the treacherous, jagged terrain, we instead found ourselves faced with something entirely unique- and utterly beautiful. Our little dirt path had disappeared entirely and instead opened up into stretches of luscious green plains. They blanketed over the mountain side like a gigantic quilt made by Mother Nature herself. The grass flowed and flattened under the wind in shimmering waves, each blade momentarily catching and reflecting the gleam from the sun- that I could now fully appreciate the warmth of. Each strand moved as easily as the wind through my hair, and gently tickled at my bare ankles. As though that wasn't enough, an abundance of colourful wild flowers also danced and waved at us in the warm summer breeze, a shower of spectacular rainbow colours. They swallowed the sea of green and instead replaced it with rich, diverse vibrancy. They were all accompanied, of course, by the aromatic fragrance that all but radiated out from the entire meadow. 

I released a shuddered breath, stunned into complete silence. A warm hand wrapped itself around my own, and squeezed once. I blinked, and was instantly brought back down to earth. I whirled around to face Dream. 

"This..." I breathed, struggling to find the words, but he just nodded in full understanding. "It's incredible, isn't it?" He mused, gazing out into the meadow with a strange expression- one of somewhat _knowing_ familiarity... I gawked at him. "You've _been_ here before?!" I exclaimed in disbelief. He nodded again, this time a small smile dancing over his lips as he watched my expression change to one of complete and utter surprise. 

"Many times." He continued once he realised I still couldn't form any words. He glanced at me again, shrugged simply, and then pocketed his hands. "It's my secret escape route- I suppose." He bit the inside of his cheek as he squinted to peer out over the landscape. My stomach turned uneasily at his words.

 _Many_ times?

"Dream..." I started slowly, and watched as he hesitantly turned. I took a deep breath, thinking of the question I had stored in mind from earlier- and mentally steadied myself. 

"Yes?" His eyes were wide, curious. I sighed heavily through my nose, and then set my jaw. 

"How long... have you been..." My voice got humiliatingly stuck in my throat, and I helplessly stared right past him now to avoid his piercing, imploring gaze. _How could I ask such a broad question?_ But... he grinned at me knowingly- as though he already knew the question to what I was asking, and opened his mouth to finish my sentence for me;

"-How long have I been running for? Well, I think it's about time we have that conversation, isn't it?" He offered his hand out for me to take. 

"... Shall we?"


	6. Over and Done With

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream tells George the story of his past.
> 
> George realises a few things about their hunters, and the lengths their willing to go to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter is lacking, but I had to do it twice because my dumbass lost it the first time. 
> 
> It was difficult to type the second time around behind my tears.  
> Lol jk... kinda.
> 
> I'm done staring at this chapter! I'm just going to post it, maybe edit it later- who knows!
> 
> Hope you enjoy xx

**Over and Done With**

I've never been the kind of person to indulge in deep, meaningful conversations. I shy away when things get real. I fight the urge to flee each time someone reveals their feelings towards me, whether they be romantic or simply platonic, it still doesn't matter. I just can't handle the emotional distress it puts me under. And yet... surprisingly, something inside me sparked to life not five minutes ago, and now is pretty damn adamant to hear the story that Dream has to offer. 

His story. 

He grasped my hand tightly as he led me through the now somewhat familiar meadow, trudging through the long grass with impossible ease. I couldn't help but feel quite nervous as we went, but what did I expect? This wasn't going to be some simple, reminiscent story from his childhood, this was going to be the story of why he was being hunted down in the first place. Why _we_ were both being hunted down. I had to be prepared and ready, to absorb any of the gory or unsettling details that could come spewing out from his mouth. I had to fight to remind myself that I didn't actually know who "Dream" was as a person just yet.

I had to be prepared for anything.

He came to a stop right in the middle of the meadow. "This," He started as he searched my face. "This is where we stop for now."

I nodded slowly, but he just continued to stare me down. I frowned and looked back at him expectantly, until his gaze eventually wavered enough and then flickered to the right. I followed his line of sight and spotted something new, something that had been hidden entirely from view from where we once stood before. A pond, small and clear sat nestled into some of the longer blades of grass and wildflowers. It was a shimmering, reflective surface of the sky that reproduced the exact image of the sun currently blazing high above our heads. In my opinion it was formed in a faint, squashed heart shape, but I could have been wrong.

My eyes widened in surprise while I took it in.

"It's beautiful." I commented lightly, not sure of anything else to say. Did he want me to say something else? Something more? I still wasn't sure.

I glanced at Dream through the corner of my eye again, and saw him gazing down at the pond with the same expression he had initially given the meadow beforehand, except this time a certain sadness dawned over his features. It made a faint worry line appear across his forehead, and dragged the corners of his lips down. I wanted to ask him what was wrong, but I couldn't seem to form the right words.

Instead I stood still, and waited until Dream eventually sighed, dragging me out of my worried thoughts and back down to meet the present moment. I blinked, and then turned to look at him. He offered me a weak smile, and I let my stiff shoulders relax. I hesitantly smiled back.

"I'm ready." He said, and I nodded.

"I'm ready to tell you the story of my past."

* * *

"I've been on the run for five years, George." Dream stated, and I had to stifle my gasp. _Five years?_ I stared at him with wide eyes, and he instantly looked away.

I quickly moved to school my features into the same facade of indifference Dream had demonstrated back at the village, while I cursed myself for being so damn easy to read. "I was sixteen years old," He continued with a sigh, dragging a tired hand over his face. "I was just a kid, and didn't know any better. I didn't know that my actions would set off _this,_ the down-spiral of my life. How I managed to ruin it all in one night." He shook his head, and bit the inside of his cheek, like he was still seriously beating himself up over it. I frowned at that. 

Five years is a long time to get over something, right? Even if it was as... _dramatic_ as Dream made it out to seem, it couldn't actually have been that bad. 

Right?

He glanced at me then, and looked relieved by the absence of my horrified expression, before he rushed to continue with; "I used to have a home, family, _friends._ I lost everything that day. My home was destroyed, my family and friends lost, they were all wiped out just hours apart of each other. I had nothing." I fought hard to keep my face neutral as he obliterated my internal assumptions, no matter how much my eyes threatened to bulge out of their own sockets. _They all died?_

_How?_

"It was a normal day, boring even, but that changed the second I decided to bring up this stupid little argument with my parents. You see, I wanted to leave the village with my friends, to never come back unless it was absolutely necessary. I just wanted out. My parents said no, of course- why would they say yes to their only child? I said some bad... _things_ , and then I stormed off in a rage. I didn't know that was going to be the last time I ever saw them alive again." He stared down at his hands, and my brow furrowed at his words. "Since I was still just a kid, there wasn't a lot of places I could go when I was angry. That's why my friends and I created this little spot to call our own. It was just a ditch connected to the road, where we could keep watch of who entered and left the village. We called ourselves 'The Gatekeepers.'" He huffed out a small laugh, and I allowed just a small smile to grace my lips. 

"My friends were already there waiting for me when I arrived, bickering like the two brothers they were." Dream continued, and I hung to each word. "I saw them as my brothers too, even though we weren't related by blood, they still treated me like one. They expected that my great plan of escape had failed, and since they already knew that it was doomed from the start, they also knew that I would need a good distraction." He stilled, and his jaw clenched. I looked at him expectantly, and he met my confused gaze with an apologetic one of his own. 

"What happens next isn't..." He struggled to find the words, his expression momentarily shifting to one of despair. I felt my heart surprisingly lurch deep inside of my chest, and rushed to offer him some help. "-Easy to say?" I quickly prompted, and he shook his head somewhat sheepishly in response. "Or hear for that matter." He glanced at me, and I nodded as reassuringly as I could.

"It's okay." I urged. "I can... take it."

Dream nodded, and then sighed slightly, like he was mentally preparing himself for it too. "Like I said, they knew that I needed a distraction, so they had already planned one for me. It was... the _stupidest_ idea of our entire lives. There was this caravan, packed full of both men and boys no older than us, parked right outside of our village. The plan was simple; we would wait until it got dark, and when the travellers settled down for the night, we would sneak in and take whatever the hell we damn wanted. We were just kids, we needed a distraction. _I_ needed a stupid distraction. So I told them I would do it alone." My stomach started to churn uneasily at his words, and I had to fight the building nerves I felt back down again. 

"I snuck in quite easily- I was younger and lighter on my feet back then, so it wasn't long before I was standing around a large group of sleeping men. I started rifling through their belongings for what seemed like forever, but what was really just a few short, dragged out minutes to a younger, impatient version of myself." He huffed a laugh out through his nose, but I remained silent. "There was nothing... _special_ in their possession." His voice changed and held a note of confusion. "No personal belongings, no money- not even something that could have been of any value whatsoever. Nothing. I was about to head back out when I spotted something entirely by mistake. A leather bound book, left unfastened and wide open on display on their table. I didn't want to go back to my friends empty handed, so I crept past the sleeping men. It wasn't long before the book was in my hands. I took it." He paused, and I frowned.

"It was a mistake." His voice was grave, his face was blank but his eyes were stormy.

"...What happened, Dream?" I quietly asked. 

"I... I didn't know it at the time, but I was being watched. The second I took that damn book I was being watched. They let me go back to my friends, letting me believe that I had been successful in my stupid mission but..." His fists clenched by his sides. "It was all an act. I was _allowed_ to happily go back to my friends, who laughed at me upon seeing the book in my arms, and told me to go put it back while I still could. "It's just a simple guide." They said." He shook his head, cringing slightly as though he didn't like what he was about to say. "I was still a stubborn kid, and of course I said no. They argued with me over it, so I stormed off in yet another rage." He rolled his eyes. " I wandered the village by myself for probably hours that night, angry at the people who mattered most to me. As time passed, I eventually grew tired. My anger had long since faded, and I just wanted to go home. At the end of the day, I would always want to return home, no matter what. I longed for the company of my parents that night." 

My stomach sank at his tone.

"The walk home was unusually quiet for where I lived. My house was completely dark, and even though it wasn't that late at night, it was still _so_ eerily quiet. I made it to my front door, but it was already left ajar. It was rather odd for my father to leave the doors open like that, he had always complained of the cold drafts in the house but this... this was different. As soon as I took a step into the house it hit me, the smell." Dream swallowed thickly, and I winced.

"Blood." He whispered, his voice thick with raw emotion. "There was so much blood. Everywhere. I found them in their bedroom, both lying motionless in their bed. They had been killed in their sleep." I cringed and recoiled away slightly, watching in silent horror as his expression entirely clouded over. I knew that he was no longer standing by my side in the warm meadow now, but that he was instead standing in the middle of his childhood home, reliving the traumatising moment as it happened.

"I couldn't have even helped if I wanted to, they were long dead... a-and I had their blood all over me. My clothes, my _hands."_ He splayed his palms out in front of him, as though he could still see it dripping from them even now. I stood rooted to the spot, stunned into complete and utter silence as I allowed myself to fully process his words. My hands began to tremble involuntarily. 

"My first instinct was to run for help, so I did. I left my parents on their involuntary death bed and fled." Dream continued through clenched teeth. "My friends house wasn't that far away, I could make it in a matter of minutes if I just ran fast enough. I pushed every muscle and fibre in my body past their limit that day, and ran like hell until I reached their front door." Dream paused, and then took a shuddered, ragged breath. "It was already open, just like how I found mine." Dream stated, and my eyes fell shut as the grim realisation hit me like a ton of bricks.

"They were dead." He croaked, and I hung my head. "They were _all_ dead."

His shoulders were beginning to shake when I opened my eyes again, and my mouth parted in surprise. His silent sobs racked through his body mercilessly, and my hand instinctively rose to rest on his shoulder. I gripped it tight, feeling a thick lump form and get stuck in the middle my throat as I did so. We stood silently like that until Dreams sobs calmed down enough to just the occasional sniffle, and then I let my hand drop. I didn't know if he still wanted to be comforted or not, _if_ he had even wanted to be comforted in the first place, because he didn't say anything that would have indicated so. I shook my head, clearing the stupid thought as soon as it had entered, and told myself to grow a pair. Slowly, timidly, my hand rose again, except this time I placed it in the space right between his shoulders.

I rubbed soothing circles there, using the same method my own mother had used to comfort me as a child. I wondered absently if it reminded Dream of his mother too, and ultimately hoped that it didn't. I didn't want to put him through even more pain than he was already, _definitely_ dealing with. 

"It's okay." I whispered, and Dream tensed. His back went rigid, the hands that I hadn't even noticed twist themselves into his hair tightened, and he shook his head in disbelief.

"No." He released an empty, wet sounding laugh. "No it's not, George."

* * *

"None of this is okay!" Dream shouted, as he spun and shrugged out of my hold. 

I let my hand fall limp by my side, and bit the inside of my lip unsurely. What was I supposed to say? _Was_ there a right thing to say? How does one tend to respond in these situations? 

What _was_ this situation?

"Dream-" I started with my hands splayed out like he was an injured animal, but that just seemed to piss him off even more. "- _No,_ George! Don't try to make light of this. The people that are hunting us are _insane!_ You really think you can find a silver lining here? Please, by all means, be my guest!" He laughed manically, but it held no humour. Dream had a good reason to be mad, he was lashing out because he was hurt, but somehow I just still couldn't find the goddamn right thing to say. 

"I-" I started again, hoping that my voice would do the rest, but no. My words failed me and I was left with my mouth bobbing open and closed like a fish once again. 

"That's what I thought." Dream muttered, and then his face twisted into a deep scowl. It made my stomach sink even further than it already had, and I took a desperate, pleading step towards him. To do what? I had no idea. 

"Don't." Dream snapped before I could take another, and I came to a sudden halt mid-step. "I just need...time." Dream said levelly, but his stance was still too rigid for it to seem believable. I nodded silently, and hopelessly watched as he turned on his heel and started heading in the opposite direction of the pond. 

Now left alone, I had time to fully process his words, and came to the ultimate conclusion; that we were both, _so_ damn screwed. 

And that my life was, without a doubt, over and done with. 


	7. Over and Done With... Take Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell which trope I love the most?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rear view mirrors. Don’t need to know where you’re going, just need to know where you’ve been😫🤌
> 
> Kachigga.

**Over and Done With... Take Two**

Dream didn’t come back for a couple of hours later that night.   
  
When he did, I had already set up our camp, because the sun was long since on its way past setting. I wasn’t angry at him for leaving me alone for so long, I knew that he needed his space, and it also gave me some time to think about a few things. 

1\. Dream was right to take me away from my village. 

Why? Well, for starters, it seemed like every person he had ever known was killed simply for trying to help him, which he had already warned me about repeatedly. He was just trying to keep me away from the same doomed fate of those he had loved.

It was why he had pushed so hard for me to join him in the first place.

He was protecting me.   
  


2\. Our hunters were sociopaths.   
  
All this over a damn book? Which, by the way, Dream didn’t even seem to have in his possession- so why were they still on the hunt for him?? It didn’t make any sense. 

3\. Sapnap and Bad. 

Just a few hours ago I had been wishing for them to experience this journey with me hand-in-hand, but now that I knew the context and had read the fine print, I hoped for nothing worse. What a dreadful desire, to have them roped into this mess. I could miss them safely from afar, but I would never willingly trail those dangerous hunters back to my friends, or my home. Ever.

And on that note, came my final thought.   
  


4\. I was never _going_ back home.   
  
It was self explanatory.   
  


Dream sat down beside me, silent and tense.

I stared at the small fire I had quickly put together with some flimsy pieces of dead grass and two sticks, keeping a safe distance between us. I distracted myself with it’s lack of warmth so that I wouldn’t be so concerned about Dream.

Minutes ticked by in silence, save for the crackling and occasional pops from the fire. 

Dream was the first one to break it. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, and I instantly broke my not-so-strict rule.   
  
“For what?” I replied as softly as I could, chancing a quick glance sideways to look at his face. He was staring down at the fire with a distant expression, and I surprised myself by longing to reach over and comfort him. 

I did just that, placing a hand on his left shoulder like I had previously done just a few hours ago, and squeezed it tight. 

“Getting you into this mess?” His statement came out as a question, and I instantly shook my head.

”You didn’t ‘get me into’ _anything_ , Dream.” I said honestly, because he genuinely hadn’t.

None of this was _his_ fault.   
  
“You don’t have to pretend, George.” He shook his head, a few strands of hair falling out of place to hang over his eyes as he did so. He pushed them back impatiently, and I gave his shoulder another tight squeeze. 

“I’m not pretending.” I frowned, “Why can’t you see that none of this was your fault? You were just a kid, you said it yourself. You didn’t know any better, Dream. You can’t possibly still be beating yourself up over that?” 

“But I am, George!” He snapped, and then dropped his head into his hands, hiding his face in shame. “...I am.” He repeated quietly, and my frown deepened.   
  
I stared into the dancing flames of the fire unsurely, torn as to what to say to console him. How could he still be tormenting himself over this?

Why couldn’t he see what I could? 

“If you’re worried about me leaving, I won’t.” I suddenly blurted out, and his head instantly lifted, mouth parted in surprise. I blinked in shock at my own words. 

It’s not like I intended to say it, I guess it was just a subconscious thought that was constantly gnawing away at me until it finally breached the surface. 

“I promise I won’t.” I swore, looking him dead in the eye. I held my hand out to him, pinky finger raised. His gaze dropped to my small finger, and his brows lifted fractionally.

“You’re expecting me to trust a pinky promise?” Dream scoffed sarcastically, but a smile was already creeping its way across his lips. It made a wave of relief wash over me all at once. 

“ _No_ , I’m expecting you to trust my childhood code of honour.” I joked, and then gave a pointed stare to his unmoving hand.

He huffed out a breathy laugh, but eventually wrapped his pinky finger around mine nonetheless.

“Fine.” He grinned, “-but it’s your funeral.”

Yes.

Perhaps it was. 

* * *

  
“Um... I suppose you can take the sleeping bag, if you want.” I said, scratching at the back of my neck awkwardly.

The sleeping bag rested in front of us, silently mocking me from where it divided Dream and I.

“Technically, it is your turn.” I continued, keeping my eyes cast to the floor, away from the stupid bed roll.

Why was this so difficult for me to say? 

“Sure.” Dream shrugged. “If you’re comfortable with sleeping on the tent floor?” I stilled, my scratching stopped. 

He wanted to share the tent? 

“Oh, no. I wasn’t, I didn’t mean- I can keep watch like you did before.” I stuttered. “Honestly, it’s okay-“ I began to shake my head, but Dream just started chuckling, which promptly stilled the words from flying out of my mouth.   
  
“Don’t make it weird, George.” He joked, and I nodded quickly. Right. Don’t make it weird, George. I clasped my hands together tightly. 

_Don’t make it weird, George._ I repeated the words over and over in my head. 

I watched as he shook his head, amused, and smiled sheepishly. He made a start towards the tent, and I fumbled to trail behind him like an idiot. 

I followed Dream into the tent silently, and suddenly found it quite difficult to breathe as easily as I had before entering it. _Musty tent air,_ I bitterly thought. I had spent the entire day outside, and I just wasn’t used to it yet. 

It was to be expected. 

Dream had to hunch once inside of the tent, due to his height. He easily towered over my 5’7 frame, which made me quickly drop to the floor to sit in a cross legged position upon realisation. I didn’t need to give him more ammunition for his teasing.

I watched as he rolled his right shoulder a couple of times and almost forgot that it was his injured one. 

“How’s the shoulder?” I asked, genuinely curious. 

Dream tipped his head side to side, opting to send me an _“it’s iffy, but it’s not as bad as before”,_ expression. I nodded silently, and then flopped down onto my back. 

I winced. 

That was not comfortable. Like, at all. 

I tried to wriggle as little as possible to find the most comfortable position on the tent floor, but there was none. Although the meadow looked like it could have been taken straight out of the chapter of a fairytale book, the ground still felt like ordinary ground. 

Which meant that (with a harsh slap of reality) my back was currently being riddled into tight knots because of it. 

“Try not to make it look too inviting, George.” Dream chuckled upon noticing my discomfort. I huffed out a forced laugh of my own, but ultimately winced at the pain the movement caused me.  
  
I tried my best not to envy Dream too much as he unrolled the sleeping bag, by quickly averting my gaze. That, and the fact that he was playing with the hem of his shirt, a sure sign that he was about to take it off. 

I was just giving him some privacy. 

“Stop suffering in silence, idiot.” Dream sighed, rolling his eyes. I returned my gaze and watched in surprise as he unzipped the sleeping back, and then flattened it out completely. The side closest to me brushed against my left elbow.  
  
He flopped back onto the material, and then patted the space beside him. 

I blinked in surprise. 

He was joking, right? He surely wasn’t just... _willing_ to give the sleeping bag up like that. Right? 

I stared at his face, looking for any signs of trickery, but the only thing I found was his honest expression.   
  
I gulped once, and then silently crawled onto my new side of sleeping bag, sighing in content once I was lying down flat. 

“Better?” Dream joked, and I allowed myself to huff out a genuine laugh. 

“Better.” I sighed. “Much, much better.” My voice trailed off into a murmur, and Dream just chuckled again. 

My muscles had already begun to tire from all the travelling I had done throughout the day, but now that I was no longer distracted by anything, I couldn’t escape from my real aches and pains.

If anything, I was just honing in on them in the dark.   
  
I winced.   
  
“We need to stop doing this.” Dream sighed. I frowned, cocking my head slightly. 

“Doing what?” I muttered in confusion, my eyes already sealed shut. I was exhausted. 

“Sleeping together.” Dream wheezed, and I started laughing before I even had time to fully hear the joke. Something about his specific wheezy laugh could always gain a laugh out of me in response. 

“I guess, I don’t know. It’s sort of cosy, right?” I smirked, trailing my sentence off with a long yawn.   
  
“You’re such an idiot.” I could practically feel him roll his eyes, and my grin stretched even wider. 

“You didn’t deny it.” 

Silence. 

I shuffled, thrown off by his lack of response.

I turned my head to the side, listening for any sign of deep, sleepy breathing... but it was dead silent from his side of the sleeping bag. I frowned. 

“Dream?” 

His hand clapped over my mouth before I could utter another word, and my eyes instantly shot open. I met his gaze, and the look in his eye made that familiar, _dreadful_ feeling return with it all at once.

He sent me a knowing look, and I didn’t need the finger pressed against his lips to know that he was saying to keep quiet. 

Rustling.

Somehow Dream had picked up on it long before I had. 

It was coming from directly outside of the tent, which made me stiffen against Dream’s sudden overwhelming presence.

When he had moved to clamp his hand over my mouth, he’d basically thrown his body over mine in the process. The only thing keeping us from being flushed up against each other was his left forearm, which held him braced above me. 

My chest was rising and falling rapidly against his, which gave away how truly panicked I felt inside. 

“Stay here.” Dream whispered into my ear, and I could do little but just nod and then watch as he turned away, leaving me alone in the tent.   
  
I fisted my hands into my hair, my anxiety getting the best of me.

I prayed to any of the Lords above that our hunters had not found us, that this was not the end. That I hadn’t just willingly let Dream venture outside on his own. 

The rustling stopped. 

A yelp, a grunt, and a yowl of pain sounded from my right.

My brows rose, and I blinked in surprise.   
  


“GET AWAY FROM HIM!!”   
  


I didn’t recognise the voice as one of the hunters, no, if anything it actually sounded quite familiar. There was another yelp, and then a sudden crash which was followed by a long groan.

Wait.

I knew that groan.

I knew that voice.

Oh.

_Oh no._

“STOP!” I shouted before I had even made my way out of the tent. I stumbled out of it in a rush, and looked around urgently. I prayed that Dream hadn’t already killed the fool.   
  


“George?” I recognised _that_ voice too. I mentally face palmed.   
  


“GEORGE!”   
  


And then I was tackled to the ground. 


End file.
